


Filling the Void

by Spiletta42



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Cliche, Crew Conspiracy, F/M, Fandom Allusions & Cliches & References, Holodecks/Holosuites, Humor, Matchmaking, Romance, Sharing a Bed, Slow Burn, Trapped In Elevator, Turbolift
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-04-29
Updated: 2002-04-29
Packaged: 2019-04-17 11:08:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 88,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14187585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spiletta42/pseuds/Spiletta42
Summary: A campy and cliché-ridden tale of crew conspiracy.  If all it took was a shuttle crash, a broken turbolift, or a creative holodeck program it would have happened long ago. So just what would it take for Captain Janeway to break protocol? Only slightly more hard work than a Federation-Romulan alliance...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Paramount owns the universe. I own nothing but my collection of Star Trek™© novels. Blah Blah Yadda Yadda.
> 
> Rating: T™© with an alternate ST-17™© ending
> 
> Pairings: Janeway/Chakotay with background Paris/Torres and EMH/7 
> 
> Spoilers: Set in season six, sometime after _Night_ , _Hunters_ , _Equinox_ , and Christie Golden's _Dark Matter_ novels, but before _Pathfinder_ , although I have taken minor liberties. (I deny _Thirty Days_ and _Fair Haven_ , and let's just say that _Good Shepherd_ and _Memorial_ came before _Pathfinder_. You'll see why).
> 
> A/N: My primary goal here is overwhelming sappiness. It does have a plot; I just wasn't too terribly concerned with pace. It moves slowly. I have attempted to stay true to the natures of my borrowed characters. I have also attempted to include as much humor as possible. But above all else, I went for sap. Anyhow, you've now been warned. TPTB would not approve. 

### Day Nineteen

No one had spoken for hours. There was nothing to say. An attitude of defeat had permeated the bridge crew. This was a crew who had found themselves seventy thousand light years from home, and hadn't lost hope. A crew that had faced dozens of hostile alien species; a crew that had fought the Borg and lived to tell about it. Yet for the first time, a sense of hopelessness threatened to overwhelm them all. 

Alpha shift was drawing to a close. As the beta shift shuffled in from the turbolift, Lieutenant Tom Paris came to a decision. He got up from the helm, squared his shoulders, and marched to the ready room doors. Everyone tensed. The privacy locks were engaged. Tom methodically entered his sickbay override codes. Even Commander Tuvok didn't move to stop him. 

### Day One

The senior staff of the Federation starship Voyager were gathered in the briefing room. Silently, they looked at each other and absorbed the fact that once again they were forced to spend months crossing an expanse of empty space. The star system that they had just left would be the last for quite a while. 

Since finding themselves a lifetime's journey from Earth, they had faced hardship and danger many times, without fear or complaint, but boredom was intolerable to them all. 

Captain Kathryn Janeway felt her first officer's dark eyes upon her, and met his gaze steadily. She recognized her own concern mirrored in his face, and tried to reassure him with smile. No, Chakotay, it won't be like last time. She turned to her crew, and her eyes landed first upon the spotty, whiskered face of the Talaxian morale officer. 

"Neelix, I want you to organize talent shows, dances, pool tournaments, anything the crew might enjoy. We don't always have time for that sort of thing, after all." 

The captain looked next at the chief engineer. "B'Elanna, this is the perfect time for you to install and test those new systems we've discussed. Recruit anyone you need from other departments. Harry and Tom, help her out. And when you have time, finish adding holo-emitters to the cargo bays." 

"Captain, if I might make a suggestion?" the Doctor asked. 

She nodded. "Let's hear it." 

"This might also be a good opportunity for a few crew members to further their medical training." The chief medical officer shot a look at the helm officer and part-time medic. "I'm sure Mister Paris would have no complaints if he was a little less needed in sickbay in the future." 

A ripple of laughter passed through the group. 

"Good idea, Doctor. And while we're on the subject of education, why don't you get to work on the command training you've been hinting about." The captain smiled. "I'm sure Tuvok would be happy to help." 

The Doctor beamed. 

"Certainly, Captain," the Vulcan tactical officer replied stoically. 

"Anything else?" Captain Janeway let the question hang in the air for a moment. "Dismissed." 

They all moved to leave. She placed a hand on Chakotay's arm, holding him back. He met her gaze, and she watched him try to keep his concern for her out of his eyes. 

She smiled, grateful for his support even though as captain she shouldn't have needed it. "I have a special assignment for you." 

"Oh?" He grinned hopefully, a mischievous glint in his dark eyes. "I certainly hope I can perform to your satisfaction, Captain." 

She laughed in spite of herself. Flirting with her first officer wasn't exactly appropriate, but it never failed to cheer her up. "Seriously, Chakotay." 

His eyes clouded with concern again as her expression turned somber. "Kathryn, what is it?" 

"Last time we had a break in the excitement, I let everyone down." She felt that dragging her fear into the daylight would deprive it of its power. Chakotay, her first officer, her best friend, and often her life support, was the only person on board with whom she ever really dared drop her captain's mask. "Don't let me do that again." 

For a moment she thought he would argue. She could tell that he disagreed with her assessment of the past; it was right there in his eyes. But he didn't let her down. He never did. He smiled softly and told her what she wanted to hear. 

"I won't, Kathryn. You'll be just fine, but you have my word that I'll be there for you if you feel that you need a little help. Always."

  


Tom Paris, B'Elanna Torres, and Harry Kim huddled together in the mess hall. 

"Well?" B'Elanna asked Tom. "What did you want to talk to us about? I need to get back to engineering." 

"I see an opportunity here, but I'm not sure how to go about it." The helmsman smiled at the chief engineer's impatience. The half-Klingon woman was the love of his life. He looked from her to his best friend. "Six months without a Borg cube or anything else in sight. I think our captain might be able to relax a little, if we could convince her to try." 

"What do you mean, Tom?" Harry asked, although he suspected that he knew exactly what sort of plan was forming in his friend's mind. 

"I mean her and Chakotay. They've been holding off for how many years? I think the timing might be right to redefine some parameters on this ship." 

"How do we know they haven't already..." Harry's words trailed off. He tried again. "They eat most of their meals together, finish each other's sentences...Would we really be able to tell if anything had changed?" 

"Yes," Tom answered vehemently. 

B'Elanna nodded. "I've known Chakotay a long time. He and I are close. He couldn't hide that from me; at least not for long. He'd look too happy." 

Harry sighed. She was right. The first officer's emotions weren't exactly difficult to read. "I know you're right. But what can we do?" 

"I don't know," Tom admitted. "But the timing is right to start working out a plan. Let's get everyone together tomorrow morning, an hour before alpha shift, in holodeck one." 

"Everyone?" B'Elanna asked. 

"Everyone who would be willing to help. This might turn out to be a big job." 

"Don't tell Tuvok," Harry whispered. "I doubt he'd approve of our interference." 

"Are you saying that our meddling isn't logical?" Tom asked, his voice full of false innocence. 

"If he thought it was he would have meddled himself by now," B'Elanna answered. "I think we'd be better off not to risk it."

  


### Day Two

The following morning, a good portion of the crew was assembled in the holodeck. Without a program running, the room appeared stark and bare. Only the yellow gridwork broke the uniformity of the gray walls. 

"Everyone here?" Tom Paris studied the small crowd. "Computer, engage privacy locks and disengage internal sensors to this room." 

"Acknowledged." 

"Mind telling us what this is about, Tom?" Neelix asked. "I really do need to get back to the mess hall. I wanted to make a batch of leola root pancakes this morning." 

"It's about Commander Chakotay and Captain Janeway," the pilot announced. "I think this current lull in activity is the perfect time to see if we can't give our first officer a little help with his predicament." 

The laughter and general murmur of approval proved to Tom that he was correct in his assumption; the whole crew really was well aware of the first officer's supposedly secret feelings for the captain. He allowed himself to feel some measure of relief. 

"What Tom is trying to say is that they both deserve a little happiness, but they seem to need a little nudge in the right direction," B'Elanna explained. 

"And we were hoping some of you might have some ideas," Harry added. "Something a little less drastic than some of the things Tom has suggested." 

There was more laughter. 

"Anyhow, let's all do some thinking, meet back here tomorrow morning, and see if we can't get this project off the ground." Tom said. His voice took on a serious tone. "And no one, under any circumstances, is to use the internal sensors to...check our progress. I mean that." 

There were nods and words of agreement. 

Tom continued. "I plan on showing a twentieth century movie in the holodeck tonight. I'm sure everyone will enjoy it. It's a fascinating look at the way the twentieth century viewed the future. 

"And Neelix, could you see to it that Chakotay brings the captain? It's a start."

  


"Could you spare a moment, Commander?" 

"Certainly, Neelix." Chakotay noticed that Voyager's Talaxian morale officer looked a little nervous. "What can I do for you?" 

"Well, Tom Paris is showing a twentieth century film in holodeck two tonight. Could you make sure the captain attends? I think it would be good for morale - " 

"I'll try, Neelix. But don't worry about the captain. She'll be sure to attend plenty of these functions while it's quiet." 

"Tom seemed particularly excited about this event - " 

"Let me guess: It's a fascinating look into how people of the twentieth century viewed the future." 

"Actually, that's exactly the way Tom put it," Neelix admitted. 

"I expected as much." Chakotay chuckled. "We'll try to be there."

  


Janeway sat in her command chair, staring without enthusiasm at the blank viewscreen. With part of her mind, she registered the chatter between Tom Paris and Harry Kim as they discussed Tom's latest holoprogram. Vaguely, she wondered why the blazes Tom wanted the floor to be stickier. 

She was tired. She recognized the tinge of fear deep in her gut; the fear that this was the beginning of another dreaded battle with insomnia. 

The turbolift opened, and Chakotay strode out onto the bridge. He caught her eye and a grin spread across his handsome face. 

She couldn't help returning the smile. It was such an infectious smile. "What are you so happy about?" 

"Hot date tonight." 

Damn. He was going to drag her down to the holodeck to see Tom's new toy. "Oh? Who would agree to an evening with you?" 

"None other than the captain herself." His hand brushed hers, and she felt the familiar jolt of excitement at his touch. 

She marveled at the effect. He'd touched her hand at least once a day for almost six years now, yet he still had the power to inspire that response. Not for the first time, her mind wandered to other possibilities. 

She realized that Tuvok was talking. Get a hold of yourself, Janeway. This is the bridge. She had no idea what Tuvok had said, but she realized with relief that Chakotay was answering him. Once again, she was thankful for his presence, even as she cursed herself for letting his presence distract her in the first place.

  


When alpha shift ended, the captain and first officer strolled back to her quarters together. 

"So, what are we supposed to wear to this thing?" she asked. He noticed her attempt to keep the weariness from her voice. 

"Tom said it doesn't matter." 

"Good." She tapped the access panel. "Dinner?" 

It wasn't really a question, but he answered anyhow. "I'd be delighted." He followed her into her quarters. 

She disappeared into the bedroom, and when she emerged she had abandoned her uniform jacket for a plain tee shirt. Chakotay admired the way she could look beautiful even in Starfleet issue gray. 

They chatted over replicated pasta and coffee. It was the same scene they had played a thousand times before. The conversation, the banter, the cautious flirting. It was all familiar. Automatic. Comfortable. But still precious and special. 

"So what do you know about this program of Tom's?" Chakotay asked. 

"Not much." She grinned and took another sip of coffee. "Something about sticky floors. I'm not sure I want to know, but I guess we'll find out soon enough." 

"Neelix recited a line about learning how twentieth century people saw the future." 

"Of course. I should have known. I suppose I should just be glad he didn't ask me to play the part of Arachnia this time." 

Chakotay smiled as he remembered the costume, but with some effort he managed to not tell his captain that she had looked absolutely lovely dressed as the Queen of the Spider People.

  


"Best seat in the house, Captain." Tom grinned broadly as he led the command team into the theater. "Not too close to the screen. A front row seat is the last thing you'd want at the movies. You'd strain your neck and you wouldn't have any privacy at all. This row is much better. These are unquestionably the best seats." 

Janeway looked around at the surroundings. Ugly wallpaper, she noted. She followed Chakotay down the row of seats Tom indicated and observed that the floor was indeed sticky. Authenticity, she supposed. 

They took their seats. Tom and B'Elanna sat in front of them. "I replicated you some popcorn, Commander." 

Chakotay chuckled at Tom's enthusiasm as he took the cardboard container. 

"Hold it like this." Tom held up his own carton and demonstrated. "Then, when you offer some to your lovely date, her fingers will accidentally brush up against yours." 

Janeway laughed when Tom winked at her. He was obviously enjoying himself. The event was well attended. She noticed that even the Doctor was present, accompanied by Seven of Nine. 

The much evolved Emergency Medical Hologram and the former Borg drone had developed a close friendship over the years, drawn together by their similarities as well as their differences. Shipboard social functions usually found the striking blonde on the Doctor's holographic arm, to the envy of all the more predictable male members of the crew. 

Tom leaned towards Chakotay, theatrically conspiratorial. "The most important move, though, is the classic yawn and stretch. You've got your arm around her before she even realizes it." 

To prove his point, he turned around and executed the maneuver on B'Elanna, who patted his hand tolerantly and shook her head. "Children." She sighed. "Men are such children." 

"I'll remember that, Tom." Chakotay turned to his companion and lowered his voice. "You'd better try some of this popcorn. I wouldn't want Tom to be disappointed." 

Their fingers touched as she reached into the cardboard container. Her skin tingled at the contact. The popcorn itself was terrible. It was far too salty, far too greasy, and just a bit chewy. She reached for more. 

The lights dimmed. The surface of Earth's moon appeared on screen. The plaque commemorating the lunar landing was slowly covered in shadow. 

Chakotay didn't care. His eyes were captivated by the sight of Kathryn's perfect fingers, greasy from the popcorn. He imagined taking her hand, and slowly licking each finger clean. He gulped, forcing the thought from his head. 

A large spacecraft filled the screen, scattering dust across the footprints on the moon's surface. Chakotay could almost believe he felt Kathryn's stab of homesickness as an image of the Earth made a brief appearance. 

Characters were introduced and the plot began to unfold. Chakotay was having trouble concentrating on the film. He was busy debating as to whether or not he'd risk Tom's yawn and stretch maneuver. It was juvenile, perhaps, but how often did he have an excuse to put his arm around her? 

She smiled as he yawned and adjusted his position. His hand came to rest on her shoulder. She'd definitely have to do something nice for Tom. 

He felt a surge of emotion as she moved subtly closer to him. There was something to be said for twentieth century culture. He'd definitely have to do something nice for Tom. 

The scene shifted to Los Angeles. The lost city, which had tumbled into the Pacific long before his birth, nonetheless held memories for him. 

After weeks of tension between the captain and first officer, they had finally gotten the chance to get out of uniform and relax for a while, albeit in the midst of potential catastrophe. 

The barely averted temporal explosion that could have wiped out half the galaxy was a dim memory now, but Chakotay still remembered how beautiful Kathryn had looked in that white suit, her long hair in a pony tail. 

Sometimes he missed her long hair. Then again, he loved the way she wore it now. As long as she never changed the color. Kathryn's auburn hair was the most stunning shade in the galaxy. His favorite color, except, of course, for the spectacular blue of her eyes. With an effort, he forced his mind back to the movie. 

She was acutely aware of Chakotay's arm around her shoulders. It felt good. Perhaps movie night would have to become a regular event. She could see that she wasn't the only one enjoying the evening. 

The Doctor had managed to get his arm around Seven of Nine, and Billy Telfer was timidly offering popcorn to Tal Celes. One of the Delaney sisters, probably Megan, was crawling all over someone. She didn't want to know what Harrison and Mannick were doing. And directly in front of her seat, Tom was playfully licking popcorn grease off of B'Elanna's fingers. 

Impulsively, she reached into the container on Chakotay's lap, again shivering as their hands met. She looked up at him, a wicked grin on her face. 

"You haven't tasted any of this popcorn." She held a piece to his lips. 

He opened his mouth and let her feed it to him. Her fingers brushed against his lips. Oh, Kathryn, what you do to me, he thought, his heart thundering against his sternum. He reached up and caught her wrist, and unable to resist, nibbled the butter from the tip of each finger in turn. 

Every nerve ending in her body tingled in response to his mischievous and sensual action. She couldn't believe he had done that. She couldn't believe she had let him. Fearing she had gone too far, yet not quite willing to be sorry, she rested her head on his shoulder as she turned her attention back to the movie. 

Chakotay tried to focus on the screen, rather than on the cozy weight of Kathryn's head resting against him, or the pleasant sensation of having his arm around her, or the softness of Kathryn's hand, which he still held in his. He reminded himself of how very bad it would look if one of the crew tried to discuss the film with him and he couldn't even remember the plot. 

He could hear himself now. 'Sorry, Ensign, I have no idea what you're talking about. I was far too busy smelling the captain's hair to actually watch the film.' 

The movie progressed. Janeway found herself identifying with the fictional president. The responsibility of command. Life and death decisions. Guilt. She could empathize. She felt Chakotay squeezing her hand, offering comfort as if he could read her mind. 

The president's wife lay dying. Without even realizing it, Chakotay tightened his arm around Kathryn. His throat constricted as the far too familiar cold fear washed over him. There were tears in his eyes. Don't you ever die on me, Kathryn, he thought fiercely, swallowing hard. 

She felt him pull her closer. Now it was her turn to squeeze his hand. For the rest of the movie, Voyager didn't exist any more. They both lost themselves in the film, and in the simple pleasure of holding each other without guilt. 

The lights came back up as the credits rolled. Reluctantly, Chakotay released his hold on Kathryn as they straightened up. 

Tom Paris turned to them, beaming. "So, what did you think?" 

"You outdid yourself, Tom," Janeway answered. "We should make movie night a regular event." 

"I was hoping you would say that," Tom said. "I found dozens of films in the database." 

"Good. I'll be looking forward to the next one." She smiled warmly at the helmsman, then turned to Chakotay. "Walk me home, Commander?" 

"With pleasure, Captain."

  


"That couldn't have gone better if we'd planned for a month," Tom told Harry. "I didn't want to be obvious, but I glanced back at them a couple of times. Not only did he have his arm around her, but I caught him licking butter off her fingers." 

Harry's jaw narrowly missed clattering to the deck. "Wow. Maybe they don't need our help, after all." 

"Well, I wouldn't count on that. We are talking about the captain, here. Anyhow, B'Elanna's waiting. See you in the morning. And Harry, please don't tell anyone what I just told you. I'm not planning on spending the rest of my life in the brig."

  


### Day Three

"Well, I think we made progress last night," Tom told the assembled group. He wasn't willing to share intimate details with the whole ship. He wasn't quite willing to violate the captain's privacy like that, even for her own good, but everyone knew that the captain and first officer had attended the film together, as hoped. 

"Let's start hearing those ideas," Ensign Kim suggested with typical eagerness. 

"We could wait until they're alone in the ready room, then adjust the transporters to beam their clothes off," Tom said. 

"Subtle." Samantha Wildman rolled her eyes. 

"We could beam one of them into the other's bed while they sleep." 

The transporter officer groaned and shook her head. "I think we'll save that one for when we're really desperate." 

"Lock them in the turbolift?" 

"We'd get caught for sure." B'Elanna smiled at Lieutenant Joe Carey. "Have you noticed that all of Tom's suggestions somehow seem to put the engineering department directly in the line of fire?" 

Harry looked from Tom to B'Elanna. "How about a secret admirer?" 

"Explain," Seven of Nine requested brusquely. 

"The captain gets a few anonymous love notes, assumes they're from the commander..." 

"That has potential." 

"Someone would have to be prepared to take the fall," B'Elanna pointed out. "If it backfires, someone would need to confess to having a crush on the captain." 

"Else the jig would pretty much be up," Ensign Lyssa Campbell agreed. 

"I'm already spoken for," Tom said quickly. 

"Don't look at me," Harry Kim sputtered. "That would be like, like...just wrong." 

"Married man here," Joe Carey said. 

"Vulcans do not flirt," Vorik announced in his own defense. 

Dozens of male crewmembers scrambled to voice an excuse. The prospect of spending the next thirty thousand light years avoiding the captain's gaze was not pleasant. One by one, the assemblage turned to look pointedly at the Doctor. 

"Now wait just a minute," he protested. "I'm a doctor, not a stalker." 

"Before you say no, Doctor, I think you need to remember that it's for a good cause," Neelix said. "The captain's happiness is at stake." 

"Need I remind you that you are currently unattached, Mister Neelix?" 

"Well, we'll have to give that idea some thought," Tom said. "In the meantime, tonight's goal is simple. Let's just try to get them to dance."

  


Captain Janeway had given her chief engineer permission to recruit whomever she needed from other departments, and Lieutenant B'Elanna Torres was taking full advantage of the captain's generosity. 

While her engineering teams worked to increase the efficiency and reliability of systems ship wide, her extra recruits worked on another vital assignment. They were sequestered in astrometrics, choosing a selection of music for that night's party. 

Voyager's library contained music from all over the Federation, and beyond. The team, led by the Doctor, was sorting through it and selecting songs that spoke of love that could no longer be denied. They seemed to be plentiful enough. Ensign Mariah Henley had even found one from Regulus III that told the story of a ship's captain and his chief engineer. 

Everyone had agreed that it didn't matter if the songs were rock and roll tunes from twentieth century Earth, folk songs from twenty third century Bajor, or even arias from Klingon opera, as long as the sentiment was right. 

No one knew how long it would take to get the captain and the commander into each other's arms, and they weren't taking any chances. When the pair finally took to the floor, the music would be right.

  


Janeway greeted Chakotay with a crooked smile as he stepped onto the command deck. If only she had managed a bit more sleep the night before, the dull shift might have been enjoyable. But even a little groggy, she was content. The previous evening had been fun. She was looking forward to Tom's next movie. 

Chakotay returned Kathryn's smile, but noticed the tell-tale look in her eyes that meant she hadn't slept her best. "Neelix has requested our presence in the shuttle bay this evening. He's arranging some sort of party." 

"In the shuttle bay?" 

"Well, the holodecks are in high demand and he claims the mess hall isn't big enough." 

"Makes sense." 

They were interrupted by Tuvok. "Captain, the doors to astrometrics appear to be sealed. And internal sensors in that room have been deactivated." 

Janeway and Chakotay exchanged a look. "Janeway to Seven of Nine." 

Silence. 

"I'll go check on her. Commander, you have the bridge."

  


Tom Paris knew exactly what was going on in astrometrics, and he certainly didn't want the captain to know about it. He turned to Chakotay. "I just remembered. I promised I'd give the Doc a hand in sickbay. I'm late."

  


"Go ahead, Mister Paris," Chakotay replied. He paged Ensign Henley to the bridge. Somewhere in the back of his mind, it registered that Tom seemed just slightly too eager to get to sickbay. But before he had a chance to think about it, Ensign Kim spoke up. 

"Commander, I'm getting some strange readings here." Harry's fingers flew over his console as he attempted to make sense of the data. "Tuvok? Would you mind taking a look at this?" 

Tuvok left the tactical station, and came to peer over the ensign's shoulder. Chakotay did the same. Therefore, both the first officer and the chief of security were distracted, and neither were at their own consoles to notice the site to site transport from astrometrics to engineering.

  


When Janeway reached astrometrics, she discovered Lieutenant Carey working frantically. "I'm almost finished, Captain," he told her. "Another two minutes and Seven can get back to work. I didn't realize she was impatient enough to call you down here." 

"She wasn't," the captain answered. She reached for her combadge. "Janeway to Seven. Seven, please respond." 

Again, silence. 

"Computer, locate Seven of Nine." 

"Seven of Nine is in main engineering." 

Vaguely suspicious, Janeway set off in the direction of main engineering, although not before the doors to astrometrics slid open, revealing an empty room.

  


The readings from the ops station proved to be in error. So much for potential excitement. Chakotay turned his attention to the helm. 

Not that it needed his attention. The computer was perfectly capable of piloting a pre-plotted straight line through completely empty space. 

That was probably why Tom had suddenly developed more interest in his sickbay duties. He wondered what was keeping Henley, who should have arrived to take the helm by now. She was usually quite punctual. 

Harry Kim's fingers danced over controls at the ops station as he pretended to investigate his faulty readings. He hit his combadge. "Kim to Torres." 

"Go ahead, Harry." 

"I've been having trouble with some sensor readings up here. Could you run a diagnostic for me?" 

"I could, but I think that I already know what's causing the problem. We'll have it fixed shortly."

  


Tuvok raised an eyebrow. It wasn't like Lieutenant Torres to be vague. Still, he was aware that passing through dull sectors often had an emotional effect on the non-Vulcan members of the crew. She was also, no doubt, juggling a number of tasks, and was probably a little distracted.

  


Janeway found a frantic flurry of activity in engineering. B'Elanna seemed to be directing a dozen projects at once. Seven was seated at a diagnostic station, fiddling with a small object. Her combadge, the captain realized. It must have malfunctioned. Janeway scolded herself for being disappointed at the simplicity of the mystery and turned her visit into a casual inspection.

  


After her shift, the captain stood staring into her closet, unwilling to waste resources by replicating a new outfit. She needed something feminine, yet not sexy. Something elegant, but comfortable. She envied Chakotay. Men didn't have this problem.

  


Chakotay had no idea what to wear. It was an absurd problem, really. What did it matter? But he knew Kathryn would wear something stunning, and it felt like he was cheating if he appeared in uniform. His dress uniform, maybe? No. If there was one thing he was sure of in the area of fashion, it was that no one ever wore a Starfleet dress uniform without direct orders.

  


The commander gasped audibly when he saw his captain. She was wearing a lovely green dress, and she had her hair up in an elegant arrangement. He loved it when she wore her hair like that. It reminded him of how she had been wearing it the first time he had ever seen her. The first day of his life, it seemed to him now. It also made him want to kiss her neck, nibble her earlobe... Chakotay scolded himself for the inappropriate thought. 

"Kathryn, you're beautiful," he breathed. With a little too much feeling, he realized. He struggled for composure. 

"Flattery, Commander?" she teased. She hadn't missed the tone in his voice, but her role was to ignore it; to maintain the careful balance in their relationship. 

"Your turbolift awaits, m'lady." He offered his arm and she took it.

  


The shuttlebay was hardly transformed. It was just the shuttlebay, with the lights turned down and the music turned up. But the crew members present seemed to be enjoying themselves. 

A few couples were dancing, including Seven and the Doctor. Megan Delaney was trying to lure Lieutenant Ayala out onto the floor. Small groups joked among themselves. 

Janeway smiled. She liked to see the crew relaxed. Tom and B'Elanna wandered over. "So what do you think of the ambiance, Captain?" 

She laughed. "In the twenty-third century many a diplomatic function was held in a shuttlebay. It was often the only room big enough to host a large number of people." 

"I've heard that," Tom said. 

"I'm just glad that isn't the case tonight." B'Elanna made a face that set them all laughing. "I hate diplomatic functions." 

Chakotay listened to her laugh. He loved Kathryn's laugh. He smiled at her, and was rewarded when she caught his eye and smiled back. They both missed the knowing glance shared by Tom and B'Elanna.

  


"Well, we shouldn't let this lovely music go to waste." Tom guessed that his timing was right and held a hand out to his date. "B'Elanna, may I have this dance?" 

They had hoped that Chakotay would follow Tom's lead and ask the captain to dance, but were disappointed. Once he realized that plan A had failed, Tom signaled Neelix. It was time for plan B. He only hoped they wouldn't have to resort to plan G. He really didn't like plan G. It involved the transporters, and would probably get them all thrown in the brig.

  


Chakotay was dreading the thought of dancing with Kathryn. He was also looking forward to it tremendously, which was precisely why he was worried. He'd crossed the line the night before, and had somehow been lucky enough to get away with it. Now he wasn't sure he could trust himself to hold her in his arms, especially with her looking as absolutely gorgeous as she did. 

"Captain! Commander! I'm so glad you could make it!" Neelix greeted them both with palpable enthusiasm. The cheerful Talaxian was carrying a platter of, well, food. "Try some grub puffs. They're really quite tasty. Unless you're anxious to get out on that dance floor, of course. I wouldn't wish to hold you up." 

The captain smiled gamely and reached for one of the unappetizing snacks. She popped it in her mouth. "They're quite...interesting, Neelix." She put a hand on Chakotay's arm and gave him a look that clearly was intended as a warning. 

"Well, I have to run along to the mess hall and get a few more of these beauties," Neelix babbled, and retreated. 

"That bad?" Chakotay asked sympathetically. 

"That bad," she confirmed. "Let's try to avoid Neelix for the rest of the evening." 

"Agreed."

  


"I can't believe she ate the grub puff." Harry shook his head in puzzlement. "Even I'd rather dance with the commander than eat a grub puff." 

"I really don't know how she does it," Ensign Campbell said. She made an exaggerated show of ogling the first officer from across the room. "I certainly couldn't turn him down." 

"I'm afraid we're going to have to reach for the big guns by the time this evening is over," Joe Carey said. 

Jenny Delaney nodded. "If she'd choose eating a grub over dancing with him then we've got our work cut out for us."

  


"Plan B just failed," Tom groaned in B'Elanna's ear. 

"Which one was plan B?" 

"The grub puff." 

"That is not a good sign. Plan C?" 

"Plan C."

  


"Doctor, Lieutenant Torres is signaling," Seven whispered to her dance partner. "I believe it is our turn to torment the captain." 

"This is never going to work, you know. I'm a doctor, not a matchmaker."

  


"Captain, I believe you can be of assistance to us." 

"Yes, Seven?" 

"The Doctor and I have been dancing, but I fail to understand why the male partner must lead. It seems to me that this exercise would be more efficient if the female were to lead." 

"What makes you say that?" 

"While the Doctor is a more than adequate dance partner, I do not believe that our dancing would suffer if I were to lead. Furthermore, I have been observing Lieutenant Paris and Lieutenant Torres, and have come to the conclusion that she would certainly be the more efficient leader of the pair. Perhaps you and the commander could provide me with a third model?" 

The captain laughed. "I assure you that the commander is very capable in that area, Seven." 

"While I do not doubt your word, Captain, I would like to make the observation myself before reaching a conclusion." 

"This is a social function, Seven, not an experiment. Try to relax." 

"Very well." Seven turned to the Doctor. "Would you like to resume dancing?" 

"Certainly, Seven." The two headed back to the dance floor. 

"It would seem that we failed," she said. 

"It would seem so. I suggest we not dwell on it, but rather enjoy the evening ourselves."

  


"Now what do you suppose that was all about?" Janeway stared after the retreating couple. 

"Leave it to Seven to question the efficiency of dancing," Chakotay answered. "Shall we see if there are any edible refreshments?"

  


Tom and B'Elanna danced closer to Seven of Nine and the Doctor. 

"Seven, what happened?" Tom hissed. 

"We failed. They are stubborn." 

"Well, B'Elanna, we're plan D. Let's go for it."

  


Janeway and Chakotay had seated themselves at a table between the Delta Flyer and one of the shuttlecraft. They looked up in surprise as Tom and B'Elanna appeared. 

Tom held out his hand. "Captain, may I have this dance?" 

"Certainly, Lieutenant," she replied, surprised. She rose to follow him. "And to what do I owe this honor?" 

"Do I need a reason to dance with one of the loveliest women in the room?" 

"Flattery will get you nowhere, Tom. Now what's going on?" 

The helmsman thought quickly. "To be honest, Captain, Seven's been paying us a bit too much attention, and you know how much B'Elanna appreciates being observed. I thought I'd try some evasive maneuvers." 

"I see." She gave him an appraising look. "So you're just using me." 

"No, Captain...uh, I didn't mean...I mean, I didn't mean..." 

"Relax, Tom, I was joking."

  


Chakotay and B'Elanna had followed the others onto the dance floor. 

"B'Elanna, have you noticed Seven acting strangely today?" 

"Just today?" B'Elanna asked sarcastically as her brain scrambled to concoct a story to cover whatever the first officer had noticed. "I think there's something going on between her and the Doctor." 

"That probably explains it. Romance does have a way of complicating things." 

B'Elanna looked up at her friend, studying his face. Briefly, she considered asking about his relationship with the captain. But, while Chakotay was usually honest about his emotions, it didn't seem likely that he'd discuss that particular subject openly, and the song was nearly at its end.

  


Tom was tremendously fond of his captain. She had given him a second chance, and was responsible for everything good in his life. He was happy, and he wanted her to be happy as well. She deserved it. He only wished that he could convince her to try. 

He subtly led his dance partner closer to B'Elanna and Chakotay. Plan D called for the old switcharoo between songs. Timing would be everything. And plan D had to work. Plan E was when they started to get a little desperate.

  


Samantha Wildman was watching the dance floor carefully. If Tom and B'Elanna failed, it would be her job to initiate the next attempt.

  


"Don't step on her toes, Chakotay, I'll be wanting her back in good condition," Tom kidded. The song ended. "I've got the Captain all warmed up for you, Commander." 

As Tom and B'Elanna slipped back into each other's arms, the captain took Chakotay by the elbow and led him back to their table behind the Delta Flyer. 

"Now how the hell didn't that work?" Tom whispered fiercely in B'Elanna's ear. He caught Ensign Wildman's eye. Plan E it was.

  


Six year old Naomi Wildman marched up to Captain Janeway. "Captain, I think you and the Commander should dance now." 

"And why is that, Naomi?" she asked. 

"Because Uncle Neelix said that anyone not dancing has to taste the new improved grub puffs, and Mom said someone had to warn the Captain." 

"And we appreciate the warning," Chakotay told her with a grin. He stood up and offered his hand. "Kathryn?"

  


Tom's relief was almost palpable when he saw the first officer lead the captain onto the dance floor. "I was starting to think we were going to have to take extreme measures. Score one for Naomi Wildman."

  


Chakotay felt Kathryn's involuntary shiver as his hand moved around her waist. His own pulse quickened as well. Her hand came to rest on his chest. This was what he had feared. He tried desperately to concentrate on something other than her closeness. 

The music, listen to the music, he told himself. He tried to focus on the lyrics. It didn't help. Of all the millions of songs available in the vast Federation library, didn't they just have to be playing one that reminded him of his complex relationship with Kathryn?

  


Janeway caught herself enjoying the sensation of being in Chakotay's arms, and swiftly reminded herself of protocol. They had both let themselves slip a bit the night before, and as enjoyable as it had been, she felt guilty and suspected, or at least hoped, that he did as well. 

Still, her response to his touch was beyond her control. Her skin knew every spot his hands had been. Her waist. Her back. Her hand. 

Her mind raced as she searched for a distraction. She started listening to the dance music. She noticed the lyrics. Damn her luck. The song might as well have been written for her situation. 

She fought to keep her resolve from crumbling. She would not enjoy this. Starfleet protocol existed for a reason. She could not, would not, pick and choose which regulations to follow. Bending the Prime Directive for the safety of her crew was one thing. Breaking the rules for her own personal whim was another. 

Besides, as much as she loved this man, and yes, she could admit to herself that she did, a relationship with him was not in either of their best interests. She'd have enough to answer for when they reached Federation space. She couldn't afford for Starfleet Command to suspect that her judgment had been clouded by a romantic involvement with the man she had made her first officer. That could destroy her ability to protect him, and B'Elanna, and the other former Maquis among her crew. 

Yet even as she thought these thoughts, she found herself drawing comfort from the strong arms around her. No, she couldn't pursue a relationship right now. But someday, when they returned to the Alpha Quadrant, she could. And right now, she might as well enjoy being close to him while she had the excuse.

  


Chakotay felt Kathryn relax and move slightly closer to him. It felt so good to be near her like this. He found himself both grateful for and resentful of this empty expanse of space. 

Her arms moved to slide around his neck. He slid his arms around her waist, drawing her closer. Her hair brushed his cheek. They danced through several songs, neither willing to be the one to move away. 

She looked up at him, and for a moment he saw his own desire mirrored in her impossibly blue eyes. Each stepped back from the other, quickly covering the emotions both had felt, neither acknowledging what they both had seen. They both headed back to their quarters alone, to cold sonic showers and empty beds.

  


"They certainly left in a hurry," Tom observed. He wondered if that was good news or bad news, but for the moment he was too distracted to give the matter his undivided attention. "Maybe we should follow suit." 

"You're hopeless, Paris," B'Elanna muttered in feigned disgust. She reached up to kiss him soundly.

  


Janeway stood in her quarters, staring reproachfully at her bed. She was tired. She needed to sleep. Yet Captain Kathryn Janeway, who had faced down the Borg on more than one occasion, had developed an irrational fear of her own bed.

  


### Day Four

For the third morning in a row, a crowd was assembled in the holodeck an hour before alpha shift. Naomi Wildman, while not present, was the toast of the morning. Everyone congratulated Samantha on her daughter's accomplishment. 

"I still can't believe the captain ate that grub puff." Neelix threw his hands into the air. "I spent a great deal of time attempting to make them as unappetizing as possible." 

"She must have coasted through Nimembeh's survival course at the Academy," Harry said. "I know we've all eaten insects, but not by choice." 

"I've certainly seen the captain eat worse," B'Elanna added. "Hell, I've seen her eat Klingon food." 

The group laughed. 

"After yesterday's close call, I suggest not engaging any privacy locks unnecessarily," Joe Carey said. "Tuvok is bound to get suspicious." 

B'Elanna nodded. "I know that the captain wasn't in engineering yesterday just to check up on me." 

"And we can't afford too many site to site transports," Ensign Campbell said firmly. "We got lucky yesterday." 

Everyone nodded. 

"Well, I guess we'll have to give them a break tonight," Harry said. 

"Why?" Tom asked. 

"Talent night. I can't imagine there's much we can do to further the cause tonight." 

"Ah, and that's where you would be wrong, my friend. Music can be a very powerful force." 

Harry eyed his friend suspiciously. He did not like that tone of voice. "What are you getting at, Tom?" 

"The first song they danced to last night: You're playing it on the clarinet tonight. And if Seven and the Doc would do us the honor of singing a duet, I think we can make a little progress." 

"Tom, I can't learn a piece of music by tonight. I have to be on the bridge all day!" 

B'Elanna shook her head. "No, I need you in engineering, Harry. The captain said I could recruit anyone I needed." 

"Well, that's settled. Doc? Seven? You up for a new piece? I discovered the perfect song in the database. It can't help but produce results."

  


Janeway paced around the bridge. She suspected that she was annoying her officers, but she knew that if she sat down, whether it be in the ready room or in her command chair, she wouldn't be able to stay awake. 

Dozing off on the bridge would be unthinkable enough, but waking up screaming in her command chair would probably get her confined to sickbay. 

When she realized that the poor ensign covering Harry Kim's post was watching her nervously, she moved back to the command deck and slumped in her chair. The fact that Tom Paris was humming tickled at the recesses of her consciousness. 

Her mind began to wander. She remembered how good it had felt to be in Chakotay's arms the previous night. If only she weren't the captain. How she longed to taste his lips, to run her fingers through his hair, to explore every inch of his body... 

Snap out of it, Janeway. She was horrified at her lack of concentration. The boredom of this region of space, combined with her lack of quality sleep, was really getting to her. Maybe sickbay wasn't such a bad idea after all. Maybe she could get the Doctor to prescribe something. She needed sleep. 

She realized just what Tom Paris was humming. It was one of the songs she and Chakotay had danced to the previous evening. He couldn't possibly be doing that intentionally, could he? She reminded herself that he had probably helped Neelix pick out much of the music the night before. Tom probably just liked the song. It was probably just a coincidence. 

He kept humming. It was driving her crazy. "Mister Paris, aren't you needed in sickbay? Or perhaps engineering?" 

"Captain?" Tom conjured up an expression of confusion. 

Was he up to something or not? She couldn't tell. "I just got a sudden urge to pilot my own ship, Lieutenant. Go find something else to do." 

Janeway moved to sit at the helm. At least this might help keep her awake. She looked down at the pre-plotted course, then up at the blank viewscreen. Well, maybe not.

  


Tom had to struggle to keep the smirk off his face as he left the bridge. Now he knew Harry had to play that piece at the talent show.

  


The first thing Chakotay noticed when he arrived on the bridge was Kathryn, sitting, inexplicably, at the helm. "Report." 

"Absolutely everything that can possibly be normal is normal, Commander," Janeway replied dryly before anyone else spoke up. "Except that the captain is incredibly bored." 

"Filling in for Mister Paris in more ways than one, I see," Chakotay observed with a chuckle. "Where is he?" 

She shrugged. "Sickbay. Engineering. Stellar Cartography. Who knows? I sent him somewhere." 

"Oh? Any particular reason?" 

"He was..." It flashed through her mind that the truth might be a little too revealing, but then again a lie would be obvious. Tuvok would catch it if Chakotay didn't. "...humming." 

If Chakotay suspected anything he had the good grace not to acknowledge it. "Don't we have relief crew anymore?" 

"Torres took them all." 

Several uneventful hours of idle chatter passed on the bridge, and Janeway was repeatedly glad that she was sitting at the helm. Had she been in her own chair, she suspected that Chakotay would probably have noticed her fatigue. But seated at Tom's station, she could keep her back to him and everyone else. 

As the alpha shift neared its end, she rose from the seat. "Commander, you have the bridge. And the helm, I suppose. It seems a little foolish to call Henley or Jenkins now." 

He moved to take the station. "Don't forget, dinner in my quarters before talent night." 

"Wouldn't miss it."

  


The Doctor and Seven of Nine had been practicing the romantic duet for almost an hour. Both found themselves captivated by the lyrics. 

Seven was surprised to realize just how much the Doctor's friendship had come to mean to her. He was kind and supportive, but that couldn't entirely explain why she found him so compelling. 

They stood close together, eyes locked, feelings beyond their control. For once, Seven didn't mind taking the time to experience her emotions. They suddenly felt very relevant. 

He reached a hand up and touched her cheek, and before either of them realized what was happening, he was kissing her and she was kissing him back. Her hands found their way to the back of his neck. He pulled her closer. His holographic tongue tangled with hers and they lost themselves in the moment.

  


Captain Janeway walked into sickbay and found it empty. "Computer, locate the Doctor." 

"The EMH is in astrometrics." 

Of course he was. Well, she didn't really need him, anyhow. She set about locating a hypospray herself. A stimulant. That would help, provided she didn't get caught by a member of her crew. That would be embarrassing. "Computer, locate Tom Paris." 

"Lieutenant Paris is in cargo bay two." 

Good. That was five decks away. He wouldn't be strolling in here any time soon, so she was safe. She loaded the hypospray and gave herself a dose of the stimulant. Immediately, her physical fatigue lifted. She wouldn't be nodding off if Tuvok chose to share more Vulcan poetry tonight. 

Now more awake, she wondered what Paris was up to in the cargo bay. For that matter, what was the Doctor doing in astrometrics? She decided the second matter was more interesting, and headed that way herself.

  


Harry Kim and his clarinet had spent most of the day in the cargo bay, and he had successfully mastered the piece of music Tom had given him. He was now annoyed with his friend, who wanted to make changes in his performance. 

"Come on, Harry, I'm sure there's a way to make it longer. Improvise." 

"Longer, Tom? Why the heck would I want to do that?" 

"Look: The captain will be trapped when you're playing. She can't very well turn tail and run, and she certainly can't chase you out of the mess hall. We might as well use this to our full advantage." 

"Tom -" 

"It got to her earlier, Harry. She chased me off the bridge just for humming this song." 

"And you want me to play it longer? No deal." He gave his friend a stern look. "You're lucky I'm playing it at all." 

"She'll thank us in the end. After all, it's for her own good." 

"I don't know, Tom. You'd better be right about this."

  


The doors to astrometrics slid open. The captain took in the sight before her and backed out swiftly. That was one mystery solved. She turned and headed for her quarters, forgetting all about Tom Paris and the cargo bay.

  


"I was in astrometrics earlier," Kathryn announced over dinner. She smiled. 

"Oh yeah?" Chakotay caught the tone in her voice. This would be interesting. 

"It seems that the Doctor and Seven were putting in some quality time. I witnessed a rather private moment." 

He laughed. "B'Elanna said she thought something was up with those two." 

"Darn. I thought I was finally the first to know about something around here." She smiled again and shook her head ruefully. 

He noticed that she looked brighter than she had on the bridge. More alert, and yet more relaxed as well. He returned her grin, chuckling softly. "So what did they have to say for themselves?" 

"I escaped before they even noticed me. From the looks of things, they wouldn't have noticed a red alert klaxon, let alone me." 

"That sounds serious." He regarded her for a moment. "Should we be worried?" 

She sighed. "Probably, but there isn't much we can do about it. It was bound to happen eventually." 

"I wouldn't want to stand in the way of romance." He reached across the table and casually took her hand. 

They shared a pensive smile, for a moment wordlessly acknowledging the barrier between them. And as was the unspoken rule, they each pushed the moment from their minds as soon as it passed.

  


The mess hall was packed. Naomi Wildman stood guard, ready to give a heads up if Commander Tuvok, Commander Chakotay, or Captain Janeway approached. 

Everyone else was frantically discussing the evening program. That the final act should be Seven and the Doctor was undisputed. It would definitely mean that the show ended on a romantic note. 

The exact placement of Harry's clarinet solo was in question. If it immediately preceded the duet, someone might suspect that the choice of music was no coincidence. Of course, there was a danger of that already. 

"And why exactly did you feel the need to hum it on the bridge, Tom?" B'Elanna asked. "If she catches on now it's your fault." 

"Hey, I heard Harry practicing, and the tune got stuck in my head. Can I help that?" Tom employed his most innocent look. 

"Yes, you could have, especially since you didn't hear me playing until after she chased you off the bridge," Harry argued. 

Neelix changed the subject. "I think we should put Tuvok between the two songs." 

"Yes. Definitely," Tom said. "Good thinking, Neelix. There's absolutely no way Vulcan poetry can possibly hold her attention, and perhaps the lingering tune of Harry's clarinet will produce some interesting daydreams." 

Tom's combadge chirped. "Wildman to Paris. Tuvok's coming." 

Everyone scrambled to take their seats.

  


Still in uniform, the captain and commander made their way down to the mess hall. Talent Night wasn't an unusual occurrence on Voyager. Even the captain had performed on occasion. As always, Neelix showed them to their seats before serving as the master of ceremonies. 

The evening began with a song and dance number by Megan Delaney that had quite the effect on male members of the crew. Her outfit left little to the imagination. 

" _The minute you walked in the joint I could see you were a man of distinction, a real big spender_..." 

"Kind of makes you jealous of that chair, doesn't it," Tom whispered to Harry as the scantily clad young woman from stellar cartography cavorted about with her prop. The comment earned him a sharp jab in the ribs, courtesy of B'Elanna. 

Janeway worked to suppress an uncaptainlike giggle when she heard Tom's stifled yelp of pain. She glanced at Chakotay. 

He caught her eye and leaned over to whisper in her ear. "I wouldn't mind seeing you in that outfit." 

She shot him a look meant to appear scandalized, but failed to completely hide her amusement. "In your dreams, Commander."

  


Vorik, seated behind them, raised an eyebrow.

  


Several acts later, Harry took the stage with his clarinet. Janeway stiffened. The song he played was unmistakably the one that Tom Paris had been humming on the bridge that morning; the same song she and Chakotay had danced to the night before. 

Could it possibly have been planned? No, Tom had probably heard Harry practicing. Perhaps that even explained why the song had been used at the dance in the first place. She decided to relax. Harry was playing the piece beautifully, and it did remind her of the previous evening, which wasn't unpleasant.

  


Chakotay felt Kathryn tense beside him. The music sounded familiar. Slowly, it dawned on him. This was the same song they had danced to in the shuttle bay. Briefly, he remembered the flicker of desire he had seen in her face that night. He then ordered himself to forget it. She, no doubt, had gone through the same thought process. He noticed that she had relaxed again. 

Next, Tuvok recited a poem. Few things were as boring as Vulcan poetry. Poor Tuvok wasn't aware of it, but no one in the entire room was paying him a bit of attention. Well, maybe Vorik was listening. Everyone else was busy staring at the back of the captain's head. Had she recognized the music? Had they achieved the desired effect, or were they caught? 

Both Janeway and Chakotay were busy trying to bury the feelings that the music had provoked. They were comfortable, if not entirely happy, in their carefully balanced relationship. Now, for the third night in a row, they were being reminded of just how much they wanted more. It made them both nervous. 

The poem ended. It took a moment to register with the audience that it was over. Fortunately, Vorik had indeed been listening and discreetly alerted the rest of the room. 

Seven and the Doctor took the stage. Everyone, Kathryn Janeway included, was swept away by the hauntingly beautiful duet, performed with skill and emotion. 

Neither the Doctor nor Seven of Nine even seemed aware of the audience as they sang to each other of a love that grew from friendship. And when the song drew to its conclusion, the Doctor raised a hand to Seven's cheek and she leaned in for a gentle kiss. 

The crowd applauded with enthusiasm, and the couple almost appeared startled by the reminder that they weren't alone. Neelix jumped up to bid everyone good night, and people started to mill about. 

Everyone seemed anxious to congratulate Seven and the Doctor on their moving performance. The captain and first officer took the opportunity to flee. 

They remained silent in the turbolift. Chakotay walked with her to her quarters. They stood at the door, momentarily as awkward as teenagers. 

Janeway would have liked nothing more, just then, than to yank the pips from her collar and fling herself into Chakotay's arms. Instead, she pecked him on the cheek, an action which itself nearly broke her resolve, and bid him good night.

  


"He said what?" B'Elanna Torres was staring at Vorik in disbelief. 

Even in the midst of a noisy crowd, Tom heard the shock in B'Elanna's voice. Instantly curious, he crossed the room to join her. 

"He said 'I wouldn't mind seeing you in that outfit,'" Vorik repeated. 

"What outfit?" 

"Megan Delaney's dance costume." 

Tom whistled. 

B'Elanna ignored him and turned back to Vorik. "What did she say?" 

"She said 'In your dreams, Commander.'" 

"How did she say it?" 

"I am far from an expert on human emotions, but I believe her expression contained more amusement than genuine annoyance." 

"Bless your Vulcan ears." Tom patted Vorik on the back with an enthusiastic disregard for the well known fact that Vulcans disliked physical contact. "I think we're making progress."

  


Chakotay walked back to his quarters, his entire attention focused on the fact that Kathryn had kissed him on the cheek. She had actually kissed him. Already, the sensation of her soft lips gently brushing against his skin was a memory that he cherished. 

He didn't dare hope that it would happen again, and he hadn't let himself wonder whether it was safe to kiss her cheek in return. She had certainly managed to surprise him; it was a boundary they had never crossed before. And would never cross again, he reminded himself firmly. 

He knew better than to read too much into it. Her action was a gesture of friendship, nothing more, but circumstances being what they were, it was probably as close as they would come to what they really wanted. The ship came first, and that meant following Starfleet protocol. 

Friendship would have to be enough, for now. It was enough, almost. He wanted more, but he wasn't foolish enough to think that possible. He certainly wasn't shortsighted enough to push his luck and risk this friendship that he treasured so highly. 

Someday, though. Someday, in the alpha quadrant, circumstances would be different. Someday.

  


She wasn't tired. No, that wasn't quite right. She was very tired, exhausted even, she just wasn't sleepy. Falling asleep would be close to impossible. 

Janeway spent a miserable night, tossing and turning restlessly. The stimulant, as she should have known, had been a bad idea. 

It was almost morning before she finally dozed off, only to be awakened almost immediately by the computer. 

Morning. 

Damn.

  



	2. Chapter 2

### Day Five

"I don't think there's any doubt that the captain recognized Harry's piece," Tom told the assemblage. "I saw her shoulders tense when he started playing. And Doc, Seven; the two of you took my breath away." 

"There was a time when I would have asked you to clarify your statement, Lieutenant." Seven, to the shock of everyone present, smiled flirtatiously at the Doctor. "But I believe that I now understand." 

The Doctor managed to look pleased and embarrassed at the same time. 

"I think that Seven and the Doctor might have been a little too..." Samantha Wildman searched for a word. "...convincing last night." 

"How do you mean?" Harry Kim asked. 

"Well, I don't know if we were really going to implement the 'secret admirer' plan, but I think the Doctor's performance last night blew up our failsafe." 

"Shoot. You're right." Tom frowned. "And just when we had an opening, courtesy of Megan Delaney." 

Megan looked startled. "What did I do?" 

"It seems that Vorik overheard some flirting inspired by your number," B'Elanna explained. 

"That's certainly progress," the Doctor said. "I'm sure we can find a different backup plan." He didn't look a bit disappointed to be off the hook. 

"If it didn't work out, Neelix could take the blame instead," Ensign Campbell suggested. She laughed as the Talaxian shot her a look of surprise. 

"Neelix doesn't have to take the blame," Noah Lessing said. "I'll do it. The captain's already uncomfortable around me. What's one more reason?" He exchanged a look with Marla Gilmore. "Besides, I owe her. I owe them both. We'd have died on board the Equinox if it weren't for Captain Janeway and Commander Chakotay." 

The morale officer gave Lessing a grateful smile. He agreed heartily with the statement. "A lot of us would be dead if not for the captain." 

There were nods and murmurs of agreement. 

"Tonight's the pool tournament, and tomorrow we've got another movie scheduled." Tom looked around the room. "We could start Operation Secret Admirer after that. In the meantime, do you think we could manage a little computer malfunction in the commander's quarters?" 

"What are you thinking?" Harry asked. 

"I'm thinking that the commander might enjoy listening to Big Spender a few dozen times." Tom smirked. "Think you can arrange it?" 

"I suppose. Am I to assume that you'll be needing me in engineering again, B'Elanna?" 

"I certainly will, Ensign. I believe that I'll need your assistance for the entire shift." She dropped the artificial formality from her voice. "But Flyboy here had better not get chased off the bridge two days in a row." 

"Commander Chakotay will probably blame me, you realize," Megan said. 

"Does that concern you?" Seven asked. 

She smiled gamely. "Not particularly."

  


Captain Janeway crossed the bridge briskly and swung into her chair. How was she ever going to fake her way through the day? She felt as if she hadn't slept in a week. That wasn't far from the truth, actually. 

Dull PADDs full of routine reports, a blank viewscreen, and an absolute lack of interesting sensor readings meant that the shift passed with excruciating slowness. When she noticed her eyelids growing increasingly heavy, she stood and headed for the turbolift, leaving Tuvok with the bridge. 

Sickbay was once again deserted. Wasn't the Doctor supposed to be conducting medical training? Her hand lingered over her combadge, but she didn't want to summon the Doctor if he wasn't alone. 

She briefly eyed a hypospray, but she knew better than to use stimulants two days in a row. They were supposed to be for emergency use only. The shift was almost over. She headed back to her quarters. Coffee would have to do.

  


Chakotay walked into his quarters and froze, puzzled. What was that music? He listened for a moment. Recognition dawned. 

Kathryn wouldn't have done it, would she? Of course not. He pushed aside a vision of his captain emerging from the bedroom in a skimpy costume and scolded himself for even entertaining the thought. 

Megan Delaney must have run out of fresh meat. She wasn't hiding in the bedroom, was she? He checked. She wasn't. 

"Computer, end music." 

"Unable to comply." 

He hit his combadge. "Chakotay to Engineering." 

"Torres here." 

"B'Elanna, your shift's over." 

"I know. What's wrong?" 

"The computer in my quarters is playing 'Big Spender'" 

"Oh? Is that a problem?" 

"It will be if I have to listen to it all night. Could you get someone to take care of it, please?" 

"Certainly, Commander. Torres out."

  


Chakotay watched Kathryn over dinner in her quarters. Her hands were shaking. He was concerned. She poured herself another cup of coffee. How many did that make, he wondered. He knew better than to ask. 

Neither of them bothered with small talk. Kathryn didn't have the energy, and Chakotay could tell. He doubted that she had any desire to go play pool. He expected her to make an excuse. When she didn't, he feared that she felt obligated to appear, and he tried to think of an excuse for her. Nothing came to mind. 

She stood up. "Let's go. It's time." 

"Time for what?" 

"I've got to go beat Tom Paris at pool. Are you coming?" 

"Wouldn't miss it."

  


Janeway showed no sign of her fatigue once they reached Sandrine's. She smiled. She laughed. She played pool like a professional. 

She beat Joe Carey. She beat Harry Kim. She beat Mariah Henley and Lyssa Campbell. 

Chakotay was once again amazed at his captain's determination and her acting ability. Tired or not, at the end of the tournament, she was still undisputedly the best pool player on Voyager, having put Tom Paris firmly in his place. 

"Double or nothing, Captain?" Tom asked. 

Unbearably weary, Janeway could think of nothing she wanted to do less than play another game of pool, but she could hardly refuse. 

Chakotay stepped in before she could answer. "She'll just beat you again, Tom. I think you'd better call it a night." 

Tom appeared about to argue, but something made him think again. Perhaps it was the look Chakotay gave him. 

"Shall we?" Chakotay offered Kathryn his arm. She took it gratefully, and they left the holographic bar together.

  


Janeway woke with a scream, her heart pounding. She put a hand to her face. It was wet with sweat. Or tears. Probably both. Why was this nightmare back? Why five nights in a row? 

It was a dream, she told herself. It had been more than fifteen years. But the images of Justin and her father slowly dying in an icy alien ocean plagued her as if the accident had happened yesterday. 

This had to stop. 

She climbed out of bed and went to wash her face. Her intention was to get dressed and go for a walk. She studied herself in the mirror and decided that she couldn't be seen in the corridors. She reached for her combadge. "Janeway to Chakotay." 

Even half asleep, he noticed the quake in her voice. "Kathryn?" 

She tried to sound more casual. "Could you spare a minute? I'm in my quarters." 

"On my way." He wasn't fooled.

  


Chakotay found Kathryn standing at the viewport, staring out at nothing. She turned to face him, and his heart wrenched in pain as he realized she'd been crying. He crossed the room swiftly. It took every ounce of restraint he possessed to keep from pulling her into his arms. He took her hands in his instead. 

"Kathryn, what's wrong?" He studied her face with worried eyes. 

Now that he was here, she felt better. She also felt foolish, and terribly guilty for waking him. "It's nothing. I shouldn't have disturbed you. I'm sorry." 

"Don't be sorry. I will always be here for you when you need a friend, and you certainly aren't disturbing me. Don't ever think that." 

At his caring words, new tears threatened to spill down her cheeks. Scolding herself harshly, she pulled away from him and sat on the couch, her back turned towards him. 

He knew she was struggling not to cry, and he knew that she didn't want him to know. He ached to comfort her, but he feared she'd push him away and was a little surprised that she had even called him. She was always so stubbornly strong and independent, and as much as he admired her strength, there were times when it frustrated him. 

He sat behind her. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to, Kathryn, but I'm happy to listen if it will help." 

She remained quiet for several minutes, taking comfort in his presence. When she thought she could speak without crying, she began. 

"I had that dream, with the ice..." Her voice broke. 

Chakotay laid a hand on her shoulder. "Your father and Justin?" 

She nodded, not trusting herself to speak again. 

"Come here," he whispered. He sat back and gently pulled her towards him. 

She readjusted her position to sit beside him, and when he wrapped his arm around her shoulder she moved closer still and rested her head on his chest. 

"You've had this dream several times this week, haven't you?" he asked softly. 

She couldn't keep the surprise from her voice. "How - " 

"How did I know? I can tell when you don't sleep well, Kathryn." He paused for a moment, concerned that he had revealed too much. "Don't worry. I'm sure no one else has noticed. You hide it well." 

"I can't afford this right now, Chakotay. I can't hide in here and let this crew down. But I can't face them with no sleep, either. And every time I sleep, I see my father and Justin, dying because I didn't move quickly enough...And it's not just them. I keep hearing Ensign Harper's voice, telling me I killed her child. And there are others..." 

He let her talk. She blamed herself for so much, and so unfairly. He pictured her, seriously wounded and struggling with a damaged transporter, trying desperately to save her father and her fiance. Unable to save both, unable to reach a decision quickly enough to save either. He lived it again with her. 

He listened as she described the ugly scene aboard the USS Billings. The story wasn't new to him. Kathryn had done everything right, but the injured ensign had lost her unborn child and had blamed her commanding officer. 

"Kathryn, you know there is nothing you could have done differently." 

"I know. When I'm awake, I know that." 

"But when you're asleep..." There were tears in his own eyes, now. He hated so very much to see Kathryn upset. He suddenly realized he had been stroking her hair. 

"There's one voice that should haunt me..." She faltered. "One that I could never have escaped from, even in the daylight. Noah Lessing. I almost killed him, Chakotay. I would have, if it hadn't been for you." 

"Kathryn - " 

"It would have been murder. You saved my soul that day." 

"Not quite murder, Kathryn. You thought he'd break. We needed to know what he knew - " 

"Don't justify it, Chakotay. You know I was wrong. But I can live with it. I can live with it because of you. I never thanked you for that. I never apologized to you and I never thanked you." She found his hand and squeezed it gently. "Thank you, Chakotay. Thank you for saving me that day." 

"Any time," he whispered, "Just returning the favor." He brushed her hair with his lips. They sat in silence for a while. "Why don't you try to get some sleep. I'll stay with you." 

The thought of getting up and walking into the bedroom was too much for her. She didn't know which worried her more: the thought that he'd follow her, or the thought that he wouldn't. Protocol or not, she didn't want to be alone. Too tired and emotionally drained to do otherwise, she shifted and laid her head on his lap. In the safety of his company, she fell asleep in minutes.

  


Touched by the intimacy of the moment, he watched her sleep and listened to her steady breathing. Oh, Kathryn, he thought, someday. Someday they'd find a wormhole to the Alpha Quadrant. He longed for that day. He wasn't particularly homesick. Not that it wouldn't be nice to see Earth again, but he didn't have family waiting to welcome him. 

He'd probably have a drink with his cousin in Ohio, but that was hardly a lifelong goal. His longing for Earth had a much different cause. 

Once Kathryn had led them home, and was free of this awesome responsibility, he could finally take her in his arms and kiss her like he'd wanted to from the moment he first saw her on the viewscreen of the Liberty. 

He pushed the thought from his mind. Again.

  


### Day Six

Tuvok walked into the deserted mess hall and looked around in the Vulcan equivalent of surprise. "Mister Neelix?" 

Silence. 

For Neelix to be missing during the breakfast hour was unusual enough, but for the entire room to be empty was illogical. He hit his combadge. "Tuvok to Neelix." 

Again, silence. 

"Computer, locate Mister Neelix." 

"Neelix is not on board the ship." 

That was hardly likely. After learning that Neelix had last been in holodeck one, Tuvok quickly discovered that Lieutenant Paris had engaged the privacy locks and disabled internal sensors. Therefore, it seemed that nearly a third of the crew registered with the computer as missing. 

Concerned, Tuvok hit his combadge. "Tuvok to Chakotay." 

Silence still. 

"Computer, locate Commander Chakotay." 

"Commander Chakotay is in his quarters." 

Puzzled, the Vulcan set off to speak with the first officer.

  


Captain Janeway sat in her ready room, enjoying a cup of coffee over a stack of less than inspiring PADDs. Her door chimed. 

"Come." She raised her head from the dull work, expecting Chakotay. 

It was Tuvok. "Captain, there is a matter I would like to discuss with you." 

"Yes?" 

"For nearly one hour this morning there were over sixty crew members for which the computer could not account. Further investigation revealed that the privacy locks on holodeck one had been engaged for that precise period of time. Internal sensors to that room had been deactivated." 

"Well, that's interesting. What program was running?" 

"That is what concerns me, Captain. There was no program running. Also, I have checked the computer logs and it appears that this is the fifth consecutive day that this has occurred. The number of crewmembers involved has increased each day." 

"What are you suggesting, Tuvok? Mutiny?" 

"I hardly see the humor in this situation. You, Commander Chakotay, and myself were the only members of the senior staff not in the holodeck this morning." 

"I see. Where was Mr. Neelix while this was happening?" 

"He was in holodeck one. As were Lieutenant Torres, Lieutenant Paris, Ensign Kim, Lieutenant Carey, the Doctor, Seven of Nine, Ensign Wildman, Ensign Vorik, Ensign Campbell, Ensign Jenkins, Ensign Henley, Ensign - " 

The captain held up her hand before the chief of security recited the entire crew compliment to her. "I'm sure we'll learn what they've been up to in good time. Don't spoil their fun, Tuvok." 

"Captain?" 

"I trust them, Tuvok. Leave them alone." 

"Aye, Captain." He made no move to leave. 

"Is there more?" 

"Additionally, Captain, Commander Chakotay was not in his quarters this morning, although his comm badge was. I am only concerned because that behavior is not characteristic of the commander." 

She answered wearily. "Commander Chakotay was in my quarters this morning." 

"Indeed." The Vulcan raised a single eyebrow. 

The captain sighed and rested her chin in her hands. She regarded her old friend solemnly. "He slept on my couch last night. I'd rather not bore you with the explanation." 

Tuvok sensed he was missing something, but he decided not to push the captain. He returned to his station on the bridge.

  


Tom felt Tuvok's eyes on his back. The Vulcan security officer had given him a suspicious look earlier, and Tom was sure he had been staring at him since emerging from the ready room. Was he just imagining it, or was Tuvok on to them? He had never wanted to escape from the bridge so badly in his life. 

"Sickbay to bridge. Could you possibly spare Mister Paris and Mister Kim for a few minutes?" 

Doc, I don't think I've ever been so happy to hear your voice, Tom thought as he and Harry headed for the turbolift.

  


When Captain Janeway emerged from her ready room a moment later she was surprised to see Chakotay at the helm. Both the command deck and the ops station were unoccupied. She knew that Lieutenant Torres had absconded with most of the bridge crew, but this was pushing it. She moved to take Harry's station herself. 

"Commander? Where are Paris and Kim?" 

"Sickbay." 

"Did something happen?" She was baffled as to why she'd be the last to know. 

"No. The Doctor asked to borrow them. I think we can spare them." 

Janeway looked at the uninspiring blank viewscreen and saw no reason to argue.

  


"What's up, Doc?" Tom asked as he hurried into sickbay. 

"Lieutenant Torres informed me that Tuvok was checking the sensor logs in holodeck one, and Ensign Wildman saw Tuvok enter the Captain's ready room ten minutes later." 

Samantha Wildman was sitting on a biobed. "I told the commander I felt queasy and came down here as soon as I saw the look Tuvok gave you, Tom." 

"I was afraid he was on to us." Tom buried his face in his hands. "I just hope he didn't say anything to the captain." 

"We'd better find out what he knows," Harry said. 

Tom nodded, tapping his combadge. "Paris to Neelix. Report to sickbay." 

"Ah, send Mister Neelix to do your dirty work. There's a certain logic there, I suppose." The Doctor shook his head. 

Tom thought frantically. "Here's the plan. First, we find out what he knows. Then, if necessary, we convince him that there is only one logical course of action." 

"Not much of a plan, Tom," Harry replied. He tapped his own combadge. "Kim to Vorik."

  


"Neelix to Tuvok." 

"Tuvok here." 

"Please report to astrometrics." 

"Acknowledged." 

The security chief left the bridge. 

Janeway stared after him for a moment. "Now that was odd." 

Chakotay turned from the helm to exchange a look with the captain. He agreed.

  


When Tuvok arrived in astrometrics, he was met by Seven of Nine, Vorik, and an enthusiastic Neelix. "Ah, Tuvok. Just the man we needed to see." 

"May I ask what this is regarding, Mister Neelix?" 

"Why, crew morale of course. This is a matter of vital importance to the morale of the crew." The Talaxian grinned at Tuvok as if that explained everything. 

"Go on." 

"I have an idea for a bit of shipboard entertainment, well, actually, it was Lieutenant Paris' idea first, but anyhow, I think everyone would have a great deal of fun. It would be well worth the trouble." 

"Mister Neelix," Tuvok observed. "I get the impression that you are deliberately attempting to confuse me." 

"I suggest you bear with him," Seven interjected. "I believe that his idea has merit." 

"Very well. Please continue, Mister Neelix." 

"Are you familiar with entertainment from twentieth century Earth?" 

"I cannot say that I am particularly well versed in that subject." 

"Well, Tom was telling me about a literary work from that culture, and it gave me a little idea. It will require certain feats of engineering, but Lieutenant Torres has graciously agreed to loan me Vorik, here, so..." 

"Mister Neelix?" 

"Yes?" 

"What, precisely, are you asking of me?" 

"Well, Seven has brought it to my attention that there is a chance that ship security could...misinterpret our intentions. So I thought I should speak with you..." 

Tuvok interrupted. "I have already received orders from Captain Janeway to ignore whatever it is that you people have been doing on the holodeck. I will follow her orders. However, if your activities endanger this ship or this crew in any way, they will not be tolerated. Is that understood?" 

"Of course. Yes, sir. Thank you, Tuvok."

  


At that, the eavesdropping crowd gathered in sickbay let out its collective breath. 

"Well," Tom said. "He knows that we're up to something, but as long as he's decided to ignore it, we're safe." 

"I still think more caution might be in order," the Doctor said.

  


Another movie. This time, Chakotay put his arm around her the minute the lights dimmed. She didn't object. In fact, she moved closer, rested her head against him, and reached for his other hand. 

When he put his arm around her, she decided to let herself enjoy the evening, even if it meant pushing the boundaries just a bit. After all, she justified, they'd ended up in this position at the end of the last film and nothing had changed. It seemed pointless to wait this time. 

Chakotay was almost overwhelmed by the powerful swell of affection he felt when she took his hand. The screen could have shown anything at that point, and neither of them would have noticed. They were both aware of nothing but each other as they allowed themselves a brief moment of guilty indulgence. 

Kathryn savored the rare luxury as she stared at the screen. She had become close to a number of people on this journey, but it was this man beside her that had protected her from loneliness. She couldn't imagine life on Voyager without him. She couldn't imagine life without him. 

Her thoughts wandered to topics she usually kept locked away. She knew he loved her. She saw it in his eyes whenever she took the time to look. She was also fairly certain that he knew that she loved him. It was unbearable to think otherwise, under the circumstances. They were both in life threatening situations too often. It was all too possible that they could lose each other without ever speaking the truth. 

But if he knew that she knew that he loved her, which he did, then they both had to deny it. And he couldn't learn that she knew that he knew that she loved him. That would unravel their complex game. 

This film had fewer characters then the last one. Chakotay was grateful, because he had missed much of the beginning. Not that he really cared. What actually mattered to him was the fact that he had his arm around Kathryn. He closed his eyes, basking in her nearness and enjoying the sensation of her thumb lightly stroking his hand. 

Before he had met Kathryn, Chakotay had never imagined the possibility of falling this deeply in love. Not that he hadn't cared about women in the past; it wasn't in his nature to have had a romantic relationship without feeling something he thought of as love. But never before had anyone inspired the intensity of emotion that he felt for Kathryn. 

There had been Sveta, at the Academy, but he had been a different person then. He had still been the angry contrary, without a real purpose in life. He had purpose now. Kathryn had given him purpose, and had brought peace to his life. 

He had thought that he loved Seska in his Maquis days. He had broken off their relationship because it was a distraction. But the very fact that he could break things off with Seska illustrated the difference. He had gotten over Seska, long before she betrayed him. He knew, from experience, that he could never push aside his feelings for Kathryn; they were a part of his very soul. 

He wished he could express those feelings, but he accepted the hand that fate had dealt him. As long as she was his captain, he would have to wait. There was just too much at stake for them to share more than friendship in this quadrant. 

Yet in this moment, they had both decided that they could afford to hold each other, and for this moment, they were both content.

  


After waking up almost blissfully rested just that morning, Janeway was even more frustrated at not being able to fall asleep. She tossed restlessly. Maybe if she went out and laid on the couch she would have better luck. She had slept wonderfully on it the night before. 

It wasn't the couch, she told herself. But she couldn't very well call her first officer to her quarters again. It was inappropriate, and rather ridiculous. Besides, he needed his sleep as well. Instead, she moved out to the living room and tried to remember exactly how she had felt the previous evening. 

Protected. Safe. Comfortable. She felt none of those things now. Which was absurd. She was perfectly safe and she certainly didn't need protection. She forced herself to lie still. Sleep would come, and it would be as peaceful and restful as the previous night. She was a Starfleet officer; she could accomplish sleep. 

Three hours later she was desperate. She'd dozed off once, only to have Ensign Harper berate her into tears. She loathed the lack of self control she had in her dreams. Tired and shaky, she got up and paced her quarters. 

"Computer, are there any crewmembers in the corridor?" 

"Negative." 

She slipped out the door and headed for Chakotay's quarters. Using her command codes, she let herself in and laid down on his couch. She could hear the faint sounds of his breathing in the next room. No longer completely alone, she drifted off to sleep.

  


Chakotay heard someone enter his quarters. He quickly realized it was Kathryn. She must have had another nightmare, and now she was here to sleep on his couch. He forced himself to stay in bed. As much as he wanted to go comfort her, he knew that she'd be more likely to stay if he left her alone. So many times she had pushed him away; he didn't want to scare her off when she needed him. 

It wasn't long before her scream pierced the darkness. He bolted from the bedroom, unable to ignore her pain. She was sitting on the couch trembling, hastily brushing a stray tear from her face. This time, he didn't hesitate to pull her into his arms. He sat on the couch, holding her and stroking her back, until her quaking subsided and she pulled away. 

"What's wrong with me, Chakotay?" Her voice was still unsteady. "Why can't I control this?" 

"This isn't your fault, Kathryn. You can't control everything. You are human, after all." 

"I'm sorry for crying. I don't let people see me cry." 

It was true, he knew. He had certainly never seen her cry before. A well-hidden tear here and there, perhaps. But actual crying? Never. "I'm not people, Kathryn." 

"No. No, you aren't." She smiled sadly for a moment, then sighed. "I'm no stranger to nightmares. And I've had bouts of insomnia all my life. Why am I letting it get to me this time?" 

"It's probably this region of space. Your subconscious is certainly no fan of boredom." 

"We'll be in this region for six months!" A touch of fear seeped into her voice. 

"I know." He thought for a moment. "You got some sleep last night, didn't you?" 

"Yes, but - " 

He put a finger to her lips. "No buts." He rose and took her hand. She started to object when she realized his intention. He interrupted. "And I don't want to hear about protocol, Kathryn. You need to sleep. It's this or sickbay." 

Meekly, and most uncaptainlike, she let him lead her to the bedroom. His bedroom. She knew the sleep deprivation was clouding her judgment. This was a bad idea. If Tuvok, or anyone else, were to look for her...unlikely, she had to admit, but still...And yet it wasn't as if they had never slept side by side on an away mission... 

Chakotay pulled the covers back. "Get in." She hesitated briefly, then complied as the desire for sleep won out. He got onto the bed himself, staying above the covers and carefully respecting her space. "I'll be right here. You won't have any more nightmares tonight." 

He said it with such assurance, she almost believed him. She closed her eyes and let herself sink back into the feeling of security he provided, even as she scolded herself for needing it. 

Knowing he was unlikely to fall back to sleep promptly with Kathryn in his bed, Chakotay lay watching her. He saw some of the tension leave her face, and her breathing grew more regular. He hoped she'd sleep peacefully, but he wasn't about to leave it to chance. He studied her face, and when her expression grew tense once again, he spoke. 

"Kathryn, you're dreaming," he said softly. She stirred, but didn't wake. He kept watching her face. "Kathryn..." 

She muttered unintelligibly. Her expression remained troubled. 

"Kathryn, wake up." 

She opened her eyes and looked at him. Her momentary confusion cleared. "Thank you." 

"Do you want to try that again?" 

"I think I'd better." She studied his face in the semidarkness. "Tell me a story. Maybe you can distract me." 

He smiled at her. "Did I ever tell you about..."

  


### Day Seven

"So what do you think the captain thinks we've been doing?" Harry asked as Neelix passed out breakfast sandwiches to the gathering of conspirators. 

"That's a very good question." Tom studied his sandwich closely. "One I don't think we'll be able to answer. And speaking of questions we can't answer, what exactly is in this, Neelix?" 

"I think we're very lucky that the captain trusts us," Sam said, ignoring Tom. "Although it makes me feel a little guilty." 

"Yeah, I know what you mean." B'Elanna examined her own meal and shrugged. She took a bite. 

"Hey," Tom interjected. "This is for her own good, or have you all forgotten that?" 

"And what exactly are we doing?" the Doctor asked. "Forcing them to spend evenings together isn't going to be enough. What comes next?" 

"They are extraordinarily stubborn," Seven pointed out. "Perhaps we should just throw them in the brig and inform them that they will not be released until they have copulated." 

B'Elanna choked. "What?" 

"A joke," Seven clarified. "Although I do not believe that my estimation of their stubbornness is in error." 

Tom laughed. "Probably not. Who would have thought that they'd outlast B'Elanna and I." 

Ensign Jenkins spoke up. "So what worked for you two?" 

"Almost running out of oxygen while floating in empty space," B'Elanna answered. 

The Doctor nodded his head knowingly. "Ah, the deathbed confession. A classic. It's really too bad that won't work this time." 

"Why not?" 

"Do you have any idea how many times one or the other of them has almost died in my sickbay? And it's always the same." He gave an exaggerated sigh. "Whichever one of them is conscious nags me unnecessarily, hovers around getting in the way, and then bolts off to the bridge to mask their concern. 

"Unless the dying one is awake, of course. Then it's a lot of 'the ship' this and 'the crew' that before I have to chase the healthy one away. And despite a lot of hand holding, never has either one of them admitted a damn thing, although I can't think of a single instance in which the captain woke up in sickbay without the commander doing his mother hen impersonation." 

Everyone was silent for a few moments. Neelix made a tentative suggestion. "Maybe Seven had the right idea. Perhaps we could lock them on the holodeck. Make them think that they're stranded someplace." 

B'Elanna shook her head. "We could, but they've been stranded together plenty. I mean, how long did we leave them on that planet with the insects? And it wouldn't take them any time at all to figure out that they were on the holodeck." 

"I wonder what did go on then," Jenny Delaney mused. "They thought they'd never see Voyager again." 

"I'll tell you what happened," Tom said. "The captain probably spent sixteen hours a day researching that virus they contracted. I bet she didn't notice poor Chakotay was even on the same planet." 

"There's a bathtub in cargo bay one," Ensign Campbell announced suddenly. 

"What?" 

"I was the one who beamed up their personal effects from the surface that time," Lyssa Campbell explained. "Most of it was exactly what you'd expect, but there's a rather large bathtub that the captain had beamed to cargo bay one. I'm sure it's still there." 

"So?" 

"It wasn't among the stuff we originally beamed down." 

"Interesting. So they somehow obtained a bathtub while stranded on an uninhabited planet. Who wants to volunteer to ask Chakotay about that one?"

  


Chakotay woke and glanced at the chronometer. He had overslept, as he had feared, but fortunately he still had enough time to make it to the bridge. Not wanting to disturb Kathryn, he had deactivated the alarm before drifting off. He looked at her now, sleeping peacefully, and was glad that he had. She could use the extra rest. 

He tried not to be captivated by the image of his beautiful Kathryn, asleep in his bed. He tried not to be charmed by the sight of her sleep mussed hair. He tried not to fantasize about waking up beside her every day for the rest of his life. He tried, and failed. 

He got up and headed for the sonic shower. He'd have to go retrieve Kathryn's combadge from her quarters before anyone thought to look for her this morning. It would probably be a good idea to fetch her a uniform, too. She certainly wouldn't want to be seen in the corridor dressed in her nightgown, nor would she appreciate being stranded in his quarters.

  


Janeway woke up disoriented. This wasn't her bed. Adrenaline shot through her before the previous night's memories sorted themselves out. Okay, she thought, trying to still her racing heart, so she hadn't made that mistake. Nonetheless, her behavior had hardly been appropriate. Did she actually remember crying in Chakotay's arms, and over a dream, no less? What the hell had gotten into her? 

Chakotay emerged from the bathroom, already in uniform. He smiled at her. "Good morning, Kathryn. Coffee?" 

"That would be nice." She failed to meet his gaze. "Thank you."

  


He went for the coffee. How could he ease her discomfort? He didn't want her to regret opening up to him. He returned with the mug. "Kathryn - " 

"I'm sorry - " 

"No, listen. You have no reason to apologize, especially to me. You shouldn't have to be the invincible captain every minute. Maybe that's what your subconscious is trying to tell you; that you need to acknowledge your emotions every once in a while." Inspiration struck. "Maybe you should talk to your spirit guide. That might stop the dreams, if you could find the cause." 

She treated him to a half smile and nodded. "I think I will. But right now, I'd better get to..." She stared down at herself and realized how inappropriately she was dressed. 

He gave her a reassuring smile. "I'll go get your uniform. You relax and eat some breakfast."

  


No one commented when Captain Janeway arrived on the bridge a little late. Her duties extended beyond her command chair, after all, and it wasn't unusual for her to be elsewhere during the course of the day. 

Harry Kim hadn't been on the bridge in several days. Now, as he stood at the ops station, he noticed a slight change in his captain. She wasn't looking at Chakotay. 

Usually, they both spent a fair amount of time subtly watching each other. It was a part of their game, and Harry, who had stood behind them for thousands of hours, was familiar with it. Yet today, Captain Janeway wasn't playing. Chakotay was still watching her, but whenever she glanced up from her reports, the captain watched the blank viewscreen as if it displayed something interesting. 

Tom Paris, seated at the helm, wasn't in a position to notice the difference. He started humming. 

Harry spoke quickly. "Tom, don't."

  


The helmsman turned around and gave his friend a questioning look. 

"Do you know how long it took me to get that song out of my head after playing it the other night?" Harry asked with false indignation. "I thought I made that clear in the mess hall this morning." 

Tom hadn't been anywhere near the mess hall that morning, and he knew that Harry hadn't, either. Something was up. It was a struggle not to glance at the captain. "Sorry," he mumbled, feigning irritation.

  


Samantha Wildman turned from the science station and studied the captain's face. She could read nothing beneath the careful mask that Janeway maintained. She wondered what Harry had noticed. 

Sam couldn't go to sickbay; she was fairly certain that Tuvok was down there fulfilling his promise to help the Doctor with command training. What excuse could she use to leave the bridge long enough to contact Neelix or B'Elanna? If Harry knew something, then the rest of them needed to know what it was before someone made a mistake. 

Everyone else on the bridge, except for Janeway and Chakotay, shared the same line of thought. Neither Harry nor Tom dared draw further attention to themselves. Sam exchanged a look with Ensign Jenkins at the tactical station; they needed a lucky break.

  


Janeway was oblivious to the restlessness of her bridge crew. Although slightly bothered by Harry's outburst, she was far too busy trying to keep her own distracting thoughts from interfering with her work to give anyone else much notice. 

Her first thought of the morning still bothered her. Was it a mistake she expected to make, eventually? Obviously, some part of her believed that to be the case. Yet she'd kept this temptation in check for years. What was different now? 

She'd been careful all morning to avoid looking at her first officer; even though she knew that it was unlikely that any of the crew knew where she had spent the night, she still worried about fueling rumors on the small ship. She feared that if she looked at him, her guilt would show on her face.

  


Chakotay found himself watching Kathryn. She wore a look of concentration as she read an engineering report. It was probably more of a mask to cover her boredom then a sign of sincere focus. Even so, she was beautiful. And try as he might, he couldn't keep images of her sleeping form from intruding on his thoughts. He tried to pull his mind back to the ship. 

He wondered what was going on between Harry and Tom. He'd have to ask B'Elanna if she'd noticed any tension between the two. It wasn't like Harry to snap at anyone, especially on the bridge. 

Tuvok appeared, and the ensign covering his post bolted for the turbolift. Tom coughed. Kathryn shifted in her command chair and recrossed her legs. Chakotay watched her out of the corner of his eye. 

"Torres to the Bridge." 

All eyes turned expectantly to Janeway. 

"Go ahead, Lieutenant." 

"Captain, would you mind if I borrowed Ensign Kim for a few minutes?" 

The captain gave a resigned shrug and Harry hurried onto the turbolift. Lieutenant Paris and Ensign Wildman stared after him enviously. 

"Sickbay to the Bridge." 

"Yes, Doctor?" 

"Captain, if you could spare Mister Paris..." 

"Go ahead." 

Tom wasn't even to the turbolift when Janeway's combadge chirped. 

"Neelix to Captain Janeway." 

"And who would you like to borrow, Mister Neelix?" 

He seemed flustered for a moment. "Well, actually, I was hoping you could get by without Ensign Wildman for a little while." 

"Why not? Tuvok, you have the bridge. See if you can't find a crew to run it. Commander, my ready room?"

  


"Did that seem unusual to you? 

"What, the sudden exodus from the bridge?" Chakotay chuckled. "Do you think we're missing something?" 

"Maybe. I didn't mention it yesterday, but Tuvok came to me with a security concern." 

"Oh?" 

"It seems that Tom Paris has been holding some sort of secret meetings in the holodeck each morning. Any chance you know what that's about?" 

Chakotay frowned. "No, Captain. I haven't heard a thing. Who else is involved?" 

"Everyone. Tom, Harry, B'Elanna, Neelix, Seven, the Doctor, Ensign Wildman, Lieutenant Carey..." She let her voice trail off. 

"Well, I'm inclined to trust them," he said with a shrug. "But I'll keep an ear to the ground." 

"I trust them, too, and I told Tuvok not to spoil their fun, but my curiosity is getting the better of me." 

He studied her face. "Is that the only reason you called me in here?" 

"No." She moved over to the replicator. "What I really wanted was coffee. Care to join me?"

  


Engineering had suddenly become a very crowded place. Everyone looked pointedly at Ensign Kim. 

"Well?" Lieutenant Torres prompted. "What's the emergency?" 

Harry shifted uncomfortably. "Maybe it's nothing, but the captain is acting a little different." 

"How so?" 

"She isn't looking at Chakotay." He shrugged. "Usually they watch each other. They have a whole routine, at least when things are quiet. Today, she hasn't looked at him once." 

"Conclusions?" Seven looked unconvinced. 

"Well, none yet. But it made me nervous. What if they had a disagreement of some kind?" 

"We could accidentally make it worse," Neelix said. "That certainly would be the last thing we would want. But how can we tell?" 

The Doctor raised an index finger. "I have an idea."

  


When Janeway and Chakotay emerged from the ready room, they found the Doctor at the ops station. Furthermore, Tom Paris had returned to the helm, and had Naomi Wildman in his lap. Janeway looked at Tuvok, who only shrugged at her in a most unvulcanlike manner. 

They sat down. Harry and the Doctor were deeply engrossed in discussing the duties of an operations officer. Tom was explaining the helm controls to Naomi, who was asking surprisingly insightful questions about the differences between piloting Voyager and the Delta Flyer. 

Janeway leaned towards Chakotay. "How long were we in the ready room?" 

He chuckled. "Think if we go back in there again Naomi will be flying the ship and the Doctor will be sitting in your chair?"

  


Later, the crew anxiously crowded around the Doctor in the mess hall. 

"They seemed normal to me," he said. "At least for them. The commander's vital signs fluctuate in conjunction with the captain's proximity to him. Nothing unusual there. The captain wasn't showing any physical symptoms of stress when I scanned her. And, Mister Kim's observations aside, she was definitely not avoiding eye contact." 

Harry sighed. "Either they worked out some issue while in the ready room, or B'Elanna's engineering report was a lot more interesting than I would have guessed. The captain couldn't take her eyes off of it this morning." 

"Or you imagined the whole thing," Tom said. 

"I don't think so. I really don't. I still think we'd better tread carefully." 

Ensign Wildman nodded. "We should at least wait another day or so before sending any mysterious notes or doing anything drastic. Just in case." 

Tom Paris allowed his frustration to show on his face, but didn't disagree.

  


"I'm worried about the crew, Chakotay," Janeway admitted over dinner. "It isn't like Harry to snap at people, and he nearly took Tom's head off over a little humming." 

"His reaction did seem a bit strong. But I'm sure he and Tom are more than capable of working it out." 

"I'm afraid that the extended boredom is going to start getting to people. We'd better keep an eye out for signs of tension." 

"I'll talk to Neelix. If something happened in the mess hall this morning, he'll know about it." He studied her face. Something was definitely bothering her, and it was more than just Harry and Tom. "What is it, Kathryn?" 

She was startled. How did he always know? She considered lying to him, but knew he'd somehow see right through her. "This boredom is getting to me, too, Chakotay. Without any distractions, I can't help but think about this crew, stranded nearly forty thousand light years from home, all because of me." 

He stared at her for a moment. How could she still blame herself for this? "If you want the blame for the fact that this crew is in the Delta Quadrant, then get in line. I'm the reason Voyager was in the Badlands in the first place. So why don't you blame me? Admiral Paris is the one who ordered Voyager to look for us. Why don't you blame him? Tom's the one who gave you the coordinates - " 

"Stop it. None of that is relevant and you know it." 

"Yes, I do. Because it was the Caretaker that brought us here deliberately. The blame lies with him. Not with you, Kathryn." 

"Perhaps, but I'm the one who destroyed our way home. I ordered Tuvok to fire on the array." 

"You did what was necessary. What was right." 

"I stranded us here." 

"You saved the Ocampa. Blame them for their helplessness. Blame the Kazon for their aggressiveness." 

"How can I - " 

"Blame them for being them? I don't see how that's any different from blaming Kathryn Janeway for being Kathryn Janeway, and making the right decision; the moral decision." 

"My decision wasn't fair to this crew, Chakotay." 

"There's where you're wrong, Kathryn. How many members of this crew are better off here, in the Delta Quadrant, then they would have been at home? The former Maquis would all be dead or imprisoned by now, B'Elanna and I included. Tom Paris would be drinking and gambling his life away - " 

"You don't know that. And what about Harry Kim? He'd be married to Libby, starting a family - " 

"And you don't know that. I don't think Harry is unhappy. Do you honestly think he'd trade away his time on Voyager, given the chance?" 

"What about Naomi Wildman. She wouldn't have to grow up on a starship - " 

"No, she'd be growing up on a space station. Or did you forget that her father is at Deep Space Nine?" 

"Her father, exactly. Sam wouldn't be alone, and Naomi would be with both of her parents." 

"And she wouldn't have Neelix or Seven. Neelix would be doing salvage work and ferrying water back and forth between Kazon sects, if he hadn't gotten himself killed trying to rescue Kes alone. Seven would still be a Borg drone. That is, unless species 8472 had wiped out half this quadrant by now." 

"I hardly chose the side of angels in that conflict, Chakotay. The Borg started that war. Because of me, they won it." 

"The galaxy will be purged. Remember those words? Species 8472 was planning to annihilate all life in our galaxy." 

"Yes. Because the Borg made this galaxy a threat to them." 

"And how the hell is that your fault?" 

"I should have tried to establish communication with them - ." 

"Kes did. They told her the galaxy would be purged. Remember?" 

"Yes, I remember. I just can't help but think how I might have done things differently. They turned out to be reasonable enough later." She poked at her food. "Perhaps if we had made a greater effort diplomatically we could have used fluidic space to get home. They obviously managed to visit Earth." 

"You can hardly be expected to see into the future," Chakotay argued. "You had to work with the information you had at the time." 

"Maybe," she admitted. "Still - " 

"Kathryn, I'm your first officer. It's part of my job to let you know if I think you've made a mistake. I take my responsibilities very seriously." He forced her to meet his gaze. "I'll tell you when something's your fault. In the meantime, please stop doing this to yourself." 

She gave him a weak smile. "I'm sorry for dumping all of this on you. And you're right; sometimes I am a little hard on myself. If I'm honest with myself, I know I couldn't have made any of those decisions differently. I could defend any one of them to anyone, including Starfleet Command. But maybe I need to be hard on myself every once in a while, just to be sure." 

"Hey, we all question our choices now and again. Good leaders feel guilty, even when they know they've done the right thing. It's part of the game. You know that I'm always happy to listen." 

"I know. And thank you. Now shall we go see what Neelix has planned for tonight?"

  


When they arrived on the holodeck they found a crowded casino. Neelix greeted them with stacks of holographic chips and an abundance of enthusiasm. 

"Let me guess: Tom Paris?" Janeway looked around at the garish setting. 

"Well, it sure isn't Tuvok's program." Chakotay noticed the lack of a dance floor. He wasn't sure if he was disappointed or relieved. 

They mingled, chatted with the crew, and eventually found themselves at the roulette table. Chakotay laid a large number of his chips on red, smiling at Kathryn. He brushed a lock of her auburn hair with his fingertips. "I have a certain weakness for red," he whispered. 

"That could be your undoing, Commander," she replied softly, trying to ignore the tremor his touch had produced. She turned her attention instead to the spinning wheel. Thirty six red. 

Chakotay chuckled and smiled at her as he collected his chips. "Think you could arrange to bring me the same luck next time I play poker with Tom, Harry, and Neelix?" 

"Every time the four of you play poker we nearly lose the Delta Flyer," she teased. "I shouldn't let you take playing cards on away missions. They seem to attract Borg cubes and ion storms." 

"That's not fair," he argued playfully. "Although sometimes it does seem that every away mission ends in disaster." 

"Seems like we should do something about that." 

"Perhaps. But not tonight." 

"No, not tonight," she agreed. "I'd like to see what kind of luck you'll bring me. Let's find the craps table."

  


Seven and the Doctor both quickly lost interest in gambling. They both found the entertainment value of the activity to be dubious, at best, and once the stakes were removed it became completely pointless. The accumulation of holographic chips was hardly worth their effort. The couple left the holodeck in favor of the cargo bay she had claimed as her own. 

As soon as the door slid closed, they were in each other's arms. As the kiss grew in passion, the former Borg drone began backing the holographic doctor towards a couch he had never noticed before. 

"Doctor," Seven whispered. "I think I'm ready to fully explore my humanity."

  


Janeway lay in bed, hoping for sleep. At 0300 hours she rose, dressed, and headed out to tour her ship. She eventually found her way to the mess hall. 

"Caffeine isn't going to help, Kathryn." He was sitting in the dark at the far end of the room. Waiting for her, she guessed. How did he do that? 

She slid into the seat across from him, and he reached to take her hand. He studied her face. "Have you slept at all tonight?" 

"No," she admitted. 

"Maybe we should go talk to the Doctor. You need to do something about this." He added a teasing note to his voice. "Not that I, personally, would be opposed to a repetition of last night's arrangement, of course." 

She looked at him sharply, but her expression softened at the love and concern she read so plainly in his eyes. Last night hadn't been his fault, the blame lay with her. His comment had been meant to reassure, not embarrass, and it certainly wasn't his fault that she needed such reassurance. 

When she didn't respond, but simply sat and studied his face with a look of indecision on her own, he stood. He tugged on her hand. "Come on. Sickbay awaits."

  


When they arrived in sickbay they found it deserted. 

"Doctor?" Janeway called, somewhat tentatively. If he had for some inexplicable reason deactivated himself, their entrance into sickbay should have reactivated him immediately. Where was he at nearly 0400 hours if not here? 

"Computer, locate the Doctor." 

"The EMH is in cargo bay two." 

Chakotay looked at Kathryn, his expression somewhere between exasperation and amusement. "Now what?" 

She returned his gaze, clearly torn. It worried him. Kathryn was rarely indecisive. The lack of sleep was plainly taking its toll. He made the decision himself, and tried to turn it into a joke. "I guess our options are limited. My place or yours?" 

This was absurd. She should just suffer until she had a chance to talk to the Doctor. What would the crew think if they found out? But the promise of sleep was a strong inducement. Her voice was barely a whisper. "Yours." 

They didn't speak on the way back to his quarters. When he pulled back the covers she climbed in wordlessly. As he had the night before, Chakotay used the blankets as a barrier between them. She was asleep within minutes. He lay awake watching her and tried to ignore how very much he wanted to hold her.

  


### Day Eight

"We've been meeting for a week now," Neelix said. "Are we really accomplishing anything?" 

Tom shrugged. "Well, they've spent six straight evenings together." 

"So what?" B'Elanna argued. "They've spent six straight years together." 

"Granted." Tom made a hopeful face. "But they've been overheard flirting on several occasions over the last few nights." 

Harry rolled his eyes. "They've done that for years. They've flirted on the bridge with the whole senior staff within earshot. It means nothing." 

Samantha Wildman laughed. "I remember when she declared him an expert on mating behavior in the middle of a yellow alert. She was standing right behind me at the science station." She smiled at the memory. "I had just learned that I was pregnant with Naomi; I wouldn't have thought that anything else could have shocked me that day." 

"See what I mean," Harry said. "It's been going on that long. And they behave like that almost every day." 

"He touched her hair on the holodeck last night," Joe Carey reported. "I couldn't hear what they were saying, but I think it was a good sign." 

Samantha nodded. "That's not exactly a new development, but at least it proves they aren't in the middle of some disagreement." 

"So do we dare try our secret admirer ploy?" Harry asked. 

"I do not believe that would be prudent," Seven said. "We are at this time unsure as to several key facts." 

The Doctor agreed with her. "The captain knows Chakotay extremely well. She would recognize his wording in such a letter, and I suspect that she would detect a fraud as well." 

"Maybe we should give that a little more thought," Tom said. "But come on, people, we've really got to think of something." 

"Let's add music to the turbolift," B'Elanna said. "The songs from the dance...and Big Spender, perhaps? That bugged the heck out of Chakotay the other night in his quarters." 

"Ah, I like it." Tom grinned evilly. "We'll all have to tolerate it, though. Else Tuvok might figure out that we've singled out the commander."

  


Chakotay was tired. When the ship was in crisis, senior officers might go several days with little or no sleep, but then they had the advantage of adrenaline to help them along. It hadn't been that long since mutated dark matter had plagued the entire crew with nightmares, among other things, but then they had all been too busy to feel tired. Now, he had a little taste of what Kathryn experienced when she suffered a bout of insomnia. Purposeless fatigue. It was unpleasant. 

He got up as quietly as he could and headed for the sonic shower. He did not want to wake her up. She wasn't scheduled for bridge duty, and although she often chose to ignore such things, he strongly suspected that today she wouldn't mind sleeping in. He sure wouldn't have. 

She was still asleep when he left. He entered the turbolift and was somewhat annoyed to hear music. Why was the computer playing music in the turbolift? He decided to ignore it, walked onto the bridge, and relieved Lieutenant Ayala of Kathryn's chair. 

"Report," he requested woodenly. And so another dull shift began.

  


Janeway stretched lazily as she returned slowly to consciousness. She finally felt rested. It crossed her mind that as wonderful as that was, it probably meant that Chakotay had let her oversleep. Yes, Chakotay. The reason that she had accomplished sleep in the first place. Just what the hell was wrong with her, anyway? 

She got out of bed and looked down at herself. She was still wearing the casual clothing she had donned to tour the ship at 0300 hours. Her uniform was in her quarters. At least she had her combadge. 

After a brief hesitation, she headed for the sonic shower, allowing herself a wicked little laugh. Here she was, naked in Chakotay's quarters, and he wasn't even home to enjoy it.

  


Tom Paris sat at the helm, trying to stir up the courage to ask Chakotay about the alleged bathtub in cargo bay one. He wished Harry was on the bridge. Perhaps together the two of them could have steered a conversation towards the topic of bathtubs; or at least in the direction of strange crates in the cargo bay. 

A thought wandered across his mind. He acted upon it, and began to sing. " _Rubber ducky, you're the one; you make bath time lots of fun_..." 

Chakotay looked at Tom. Had he lost his mind? "Rubber ducky, Mister Paris?" 

"Just reminiscing about my childhood," Tom sighed with exaggeration. "Sometimes I miss the simple pleasures of youth." 

No one commented. Chakotay wasn't really that interested, and everyone else had nervously realized what Tom was really gearing up to talk about. 

After a moment of silence Tom turned around to look at the first officer. "What about you, Chakotay? Did you ever have a rubber ducky?" Tom waited a beat. "Perhaps you still have your rubber ducky. Do you enjoy a good soak in the tub?" 

The tension on the bridge could have been cut with a laser scalpel. Ever patient, Chakotay tolerated Tom's needling even as he wished Tuvok were present to be the target. 

Tom decided to push his luck further. "How about the captain? Is she the rubber ducky type, Commander?" 

"I wouldn't know, Lieutenant," Chakotay replied. "Why don't you ask her sometime?"

  


This time, Janeway checked the Doctor's whereabouts before making the walk to sickbay. She was relieved to discover that he was both at his post and alone. When she arrived, she found him singing as he went about his duties. 

"Why, Captain, what a pleasant surprise. What can I do for you today?" 

Janeway smiled. He was certainly in a good mood. "To be honest, Doctor, I've been having some trouble sleeping." 

"Oh?" He picked up a medical tricorder. "When did it start this time?" 

"About a week ago." 

"No other symptoms? Nothing new?" 

"No, just the usual. Insomnia, nightmares." 

The Doctor frowned at his tricorder. "Captain, pardon me, but your readings show you as being fairly well rested right now." 

She sighed. "I slept in this morning. But I can't afford to do that very often. Can you do something about the dreams?" 

"Captain, you know as well as I do that I can give you something for a day or two, but it's usually better to just let it run its course." 

The Doctor watched the captain closely. She had never lied to him before, but he sensed that she was hiding something this time. "You're not suffering physically right now, and we aren't in the midst of a crisis, so why don't you give yourself a couple of days and then check back?" 

For a moment, she considered threatening to call him in the middle of the night the next time she couldn't sleep. But she also knew he was right. And she hadn't had any nightmares the night before, so maybe she had broken the pattern anyhow.

  


"I think I know why you kicked Tom Paris off the bridge the other day," Chakotay said as he prepared dinner. 

"Oh?" Janeway asked cautiously from her position on his couch. 

"He's annoying when he's bored," Chakotay answered. "He was singing about bath toys. I think he was hoping I'd chase him off to engineering again." 

She laughed. "Maybe we should temporarily reassign him. Let him pester B'Elanna for a while." 

"I suspect she'd get more accomplished without his...help." Chakotay looked at Kathryn, stretched out on his couch, and felt a pang of regret for what they could never have. He was jealous of Tom and B'Elanna. "Hey, here's some news. I think Megan Delaney is stalking me." 

"What makes you think that?" 

"The other night in my quarters the computer was playing the song from her talent night performance. It wouldn't stop. I had to call engineering." 

"I don't know. I'm not convinced that Megan could pull that off on her own." 

"Oh, I'm sure she could convince Paris to give her a hand. He always needs extra replicator rations. Then again, he loves to torment me; he'd probably do it for free." 

"Tom loves to torment everyone. And speaking of Tom, I assume he's responsible for the music in the turbolift?" 

"That was my guess." He stood watching her. She looked so comfortable that he hated to disturb her. "Dinner's ready. Shall I bring you a plate?" 

She laughed. "I think I can get up." 

They sat and ate in companionable silence for a while. She noticed that Chakotay seemed a little tired. That would be her fault, she realized. For the past three nights he'd been awake at 0300 hours on her behalf. 

"So what does Neelix have on the agenda for this evening?" he asked. 

She shrugged. "Do we have to make an appearance every night?" 

"I suppose not." He studied her face. "Do you have something else in mind?" 

She thought quickly. "I'd rather stay in for the evening. Maybe you could help me contact my spirit guide." 

"Of course. We probably should have done that last night." 

"I was too tired to think last night. I feel much better now." 

Chakotay went and retrieved his medicine bundle. They sat on the floor together, and he began the ritual. 

"A-koo-chee-moya...we are far from the sacred places of our grandfathers. We are far from the bones of our people. But perhaps there is one powerful being who will embrace this woman and give her the answers she seeks." 

Janeway found herself on an M-class planet, facing a large rock in a grassy meadow. The familiar salamander regarded her quietly. 

"Do you know why I've been having these dreams?" she asked the little animal, anxious to get right to the point. 

"Yes." 

When it said nothing more she tried again. "Will you tell me?" 

"I do not need to tell you what you already know." 

"But I don't know." 

"But if you do not, then how can I?" 

That was a good point, Janeway realized. This was her hallucination; it could help unlock the mysteries of her own subconscious, but it could hardly have information that she did not possess at some level. "So what is it that I already know?" 

It answered her question with one of its own. "What bothers you about the dreams?" 

"I don't like remembering my mistakes. I don't like reliving all of the pain and guilt in those memories." 

"But you know those accidents weren't your fault," the salamander answered reasonably. "You have made your peace with each of those events." 

"Then I shouldn't be having the dreams." 

"There is no should or shouldn't in dreaming." 

"So are you telling me to go on dreaming about those things?" 

"I did not say that." 

"Then are you telling me that I can stop dreaming them?" 

"I did not say that, either. I do not have that answer. Only you have it." 

"But if I've made peace with the events in the dreams, then I don't know what else to do to stop them." 

"Perhaps there is another issue you must work out, and the dreams are merely a clue. A dream is not always about its subject." 

"What other issue?" 

"Give it some thought." With that, the little amphibian vanished, leaving Janeway to stroll through the pleasant environment in which she found herself. She felt a sense of peace, here, despite the frustration she felt at not obtaining an answer.

  


"So, did that help?" Chakotay asked. 

"I'm not sure. It was very peaceful. Perhaps that's a sign that I'll be able to sleep restfully tonight." 

"Perhaps." 

"Well, I think I'm off to test that theory." She rose, and headed for the door. He followed her. 

"Good night, Kathryn." He hesitated a moment, then decided to speak. "Please call me if you need me." 

She didn't argue. Instead, she gave his hand a squeeze. "Thank you, Chakotay. Good night."

  


Tom was none too subtly watching the door to Sandrine's, as he had been doing all evening. B'Elanna finally lost patience with him. "They aren't coming, Tom. Why don't you forget about them for five minutes before I start to get jealous of your latest hobby?" 

"Jealous? Oh come on, B'Elanna, you know that nothing interests me more than you do." 

"Really? Then why don't you come back to my quarters and prove it." 

"Are you propositioning me, Torres?" 

"What do you think, Paris?"

  


The shuttle was full of acrid smoke. It stung her eyes and burned her throat. Janeway struggled to drag Chakotay's unconscious body from the wreckage. She heard the computer voicing its calm warnings of impending doom. She was running out of time. 

She fought to reach the door with her precious burden, but it seemed to move further away. She couldn't breathe, but she wouldn't leave him. She reached the door, but the shuttle was sinking. Sinking beneath the surface of an icy alien ocean; she couldn't pull him out in time... 

Janeway bolted upright in bed, gasping for breath. She tried to shake off the horror of the dream. She was on Voyager. She was safe. Chakotay was safe. Her ship and crew were safe. Even the damn shuttles were safe. She wiped the unwelcome tears from her eyes and got out of bed. 

She gathered her combadge and uniform, verified with the computer that the corridor was abandoned, and walked trembling to Chakotay's quarters. She keyed in the override code, crossed to the bedroom, and stood staring at Chakotay's sleeping form. What the hell was she doing? But comfortable sleep called to her like a siren song, and she climbed into the bed. Once again, she was asleep within minutes.

  


Chakotay was crawling through a Jefferies tube. Kathryn was beside him. Something was wrong, but he wasn't clear on what. He didn't feel especially bothered by it. He was intoxicated by her nearness. 

She touched him, sending electric fire up his arm, and he turned to meet her gaze. Her eyes revealed a desire that surprised him. He expected her to retreat. She did not. 

He raised his hand to lightly touch her face. Still, she did not move away. His pulse raced. He felt lightheaded. He stroked her hair, mesmerized by the fact that still she remained. 

"Kathryn?" he breathed. And she crawled closer to kiss him. It was a soft kiss, almost tentative. He returned it, his mind spinning dizzily. Every nerve ending in his body felt her tongue brush against his lower lip. She had her hands on his chest, pushing him over. 

Before he knew how it had happened, he was laying on his back, with Kathryn on top of him. She was kissing him deeply, exploring his mouth with her tongue. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her back, matching her passion. She was unzipping his uniform jacket, pulling his turtleneck out of his pants, thrusting her hands underneath it to explore his bare chest. 

He gasped as her questing fingers found a nipple. "Take it off," she growled, pulling again at his turtleneck. He moved to comply, no easy task with her straddling him, now kissing his neck. As soon as the offending fabric was pushed aside, she lowered her hungry mouth to his chest. 

His hands found her hair as he groaned in response to her actions. She moved lower, fumbling with the clasp to his trousers, then tugging at the waistband until he lifted his hips to aid her efforts. 

He woke up. Kathryn was indeed beside him, sleeping. Her hand was lightly touching his arm. He couldn't move without waking her. He worked to slow his breathing as he tried to will away the physical symptoms of his arousal. Sleep, he feared, would not be returning quite yet.

  


### Day Nine

"Where were they last night?" Tom asked. He didn't really expect an answer. He was almost regretting his vow not to use internal sensors to track the whereabouts of the captain. 

"I know they had dinner together," Neelix said. "Commander Chakotay came down to the mess hall and borrowed some ingredients." 

"That sounds promising," B'Elanna said. "Did anyone see either of them after that?" 

No one had.

  


Janeway woke up pleasantly refreshed. She stretched luxuriously and encountered a warm body beside her own. She was surprised, not by the fact that she was in his bed, but instead by the fact that she wasn't alone. She opened her eyes and studied his sleeping face. 

She pushed away the urge to touch him, and climbed out of bed. This habit of hers could not continue. She couldn't even imagine what Starfleet would think. Here she was, the captain of a vessel that had survived nearly six years alone in the Delta Quadrant, and now she was suddenly afraid to sleep alone? It didn't make sense. 

In a way, it would almost be easier to deal with if she gave in to the temptation for an intimate relationship. At least that would be understandable, she thought wryly. She rebuked herself for even daring to think such thoughts and headed for the sonic shower.

  


When Chakotay woke up, Kathryn was gone. He scolded himself for the disappointment he felt at not waking up beside her. Memories of the previous night's dream came flooding back, and he scolded himself again. In a Jefferies tube? Who did he think he was, Tom Paris? 

He got up and pulled off his tee shirt, intending to head for the shower. He noticed Kathryn's combadge and pips on his dresser, beside his rank bar. Her things on his dresser; like they belonged. To his annoyance, the sight actually served to excite him as he realized that she hadn't left. She appeared a moment later, in uniform, and he was suddenly very glad that he hadn't yet shed his sweatpants. 

Kathryn's heart skipped a beat at the sight of Chakotay's bare chest. While a rare sight, it was not one completely unknown to her. Yet she had to fight to keep from devouring him with her eyes. 

Chakotay smiled at her. "Good morning, Kathryn." 

"Good morning," she managed in reply. Between his dimples and his smooth, muscular chest she felt like a teenager. She wrestled her emotions back under control. He was her first officer and she had no right to be standing in his bedroom ogling him. 

He recognized the discomfort in her expression and sought to relieve it. "Give me a minute to get dressed, then come to breakfast with me." 

She nodded, putting on her combadge. He disappeared into the sonic shower.

  


When they arrived in the mess hall, they were somewhat startled to find it abandoned. "Neelix?" 

Tuvok entered behind them. "You will not find him. He is in the holodeck, as is half of the crew." 

"Still?" Janeway asked. "What could they possibly be doing?" 

"Since you ordered me to leave them alone, I find myself unable to answer you," Tuvok replied. "However, Mister Neelix has assured me that the entertainment value of their activities will be worth the trouble." 

"Then I guess we'll just have to wait a little longer," Janeway said. "In the meantime, would you care to join us for breakfast?" 

They all helped themselves to the food Neelix had left out, and moved to sit down. The three of them were still eating when Neelix returned, with Harry, Tom, B'Elanna and a number of others in tow. They all briefly froze at the sight of the three most senior officers. 

"Good morning," Janeway called to them. "I hope whatever you've got cooking on the holodeck is going well." Was it her imagination, or did Tom look nervous? Harry most certainly did. 

"It's going very well, Captain," B'Elanna replied without meeting her gaze. She suddenly found the breakfast selection to be extremely interesting.

  


"Is it just me, or was B'Elanna acting guilty back there?" Chakotay asked as he followed Janeway into the turbolift. 

"I was just about to ask if Tom looked nervous to you. I really am starting to wonder what's going on around here."

  


Harry Kim stood at the ops station, again watching his commanding officers. The captain seemed normal; her eyes followed Chakotay as they usually did. The first officer, however, seemed distracted. When he glanced at her, he looked away quickly, as if he was trying not to watch her, but couldn't help himself. 

Not for the first time, Harry wondered how he would feel in Chakotay's boots. He couldn't imagine being in love, yet remaining silent. Especially for nearly six years. What if it were Libby sitting in that chair, using protocol to keep him at arm's length? 

Could he stand to sit beside her every day, hiding his feelings? Or would it be enough to at least see her, talk to her, and share experiences with her? Might that not be better than being separated by more than thirty thousand light years? He missed her, but would he trade proximity for honesty, and for the privilege of having held her, kissed her, and exchanged words of love with her? 

Could he mask his feelings if necessary? Probably not very well, he decided. Even Captain Janeway herself hadn't been completely successful at that, and Chakotay most certainly had failed miserably. Even young Naomi Wildman knew of the Commander's feelings. 

Harry grasped an important notion regarding his own feelings: Libby. It was still Libby, wasn't it? Even despite all of the years, and all of the distance, it was still her name that rose to the surface when he thought about romance. Not that his feelings for Khala, his most recent dalliance, hadn't been real, but they were different. She wasn't Libby.

  


Chakotay shifted restlessly again, and Janeway glanced at him with a touch of concern. She stood. "Commander, my ready room?" 

He nodded and followed her. She went straight for the replicator, handing him a drink before moving behind her desk to sip her own. 

A smile spread across Chakotay's face as he watched Kathryn taste her coffee. There was something unguarded about her expression in the moment that she took that first sip. He found it charming. 

"Commander?" 

He jumped at the sound of her voice. She had caught him watching her. He was definitely tired; he was usually more discreet. 

"Sorry, Captain. My mind wandered for a moment." 

"Don't apologize, Chakotay." She was the one responsible for repeatedly disturbing his sleep. "It's not your fault if you're tired, after all. You've been cheated out of some sleep lately." 

He considered claiming that he wasn't tired, but he knew that would be futile. Instead, he gave her his most winning smile. "It's true. This beautiful woman keeps crawling into my bed in the middle of the night." 

Janeway smiled in spite of herself. The man certainly was good for her ego. "About that - " 

"Listen, why don't you just make up your mind to spend the whole night." He was treading on dangerous ground and he knew it. "Then I wouldn't be awake wondering if you were sleeping or not, and you wouldn't have to relocate at 0300 hours." 

She didn't answer him. What could she possibly say? He was right, or at least as close to right as he could be, considering the position into which she had forced him. But she couldn't continue this new habit. She sighed. 

"It's okay, Kathryn, just think about it." 

He was so tolerant. She felt a rush of gratitude for his patience, and changed the subject. "Why don't you go wander around and see if you can find out what our little shipboard mystery is all about. I'd hate to sick Tuvok on them, but my curiosity is getting the better of me." 

Chakotay chuckled. "Gladly. I'll see what I can do."

  


Janeway was cooking. Ordinarily, she avoided that particular chore. There was usually little need for her to bother. She had a replicator for when she didn't eat in the mess hall, and Chakotay was a talented cook. She, on the other hand, had even been known to have trouble with replicator recipes, which should have been impossible. Neelix had been more than a little surprised when she'd appeared in the mess hall with a grocery list. 

But poor Chakotay was exhausted, and was in fact now asleep on her couch. She felt she owed him something for his suffering. Not that poisoning him really seemed like a fair payment. 

When the meal was prepared, she was almost reluctant to disturb him. She fantasized, for a moment, about waking him with a kiss. Then she mentally slapped herself; what had gotten into her lately? 

When she laid a hand on his shoulder, he mumbled something indistinct. "Chakotay," she called softly, "Dinner." 

He opened his eyes and grinned at her. "Shall I notify sick bay?" 

Dinner was, thankfully, edible. Chakotay told her so promptly. 

"So, solve any mysteries today?" she asked. 

"No. No, I didn't." He looked pensive. "I'm not even convinced that Tom Paris is the ringleader, although he is the senior officer involved." 

"I thought that was the one thing we knew." 

"I thought so, too. But I overheard Lieutenant Carey complain to B'Elanna about Neelix's project. It seems he borrowed Ensign Vorik for something." 

"Neelix borrowed Vorik? Whatever for?" 

"I talked to Tuvok, and he told me that Neelix, Vorik, and Seven were working on something in astrometrics the other day. And Neelix has been jumpy all week." 

"I noticed that he didn't greet us this morning." She took a sip of coffee. "Well, I'm sure we'll find out soon enough. No one can keep a secret for long on this ship."

  


"And what is the point of this, again?" B'Elanna rubbed her arms briskly. "I'm cold." 

"I've got to agree with B'Elanna, Tom," Harry said. "I don't see why it has to be freezing in here." 

"You can't huddle together for warmth if it isn't cold," Tom explained reasonably. 

B'Elanna snorted. "Well, I don't know who you're planning to cuddle up with, Paris, because I'm not hanging around unless you raise the temperature." 

Neelix hurried onto the holodeck. He looked around in puzzlement. "Why is it so cold in here?" 

"Mister Paris seems to find hypothermia to be romantic," the Doctor explained. 

"It does have a certain appeal." Seven appeared behind the Doctor and slipped her arms around his waist. 

B'Elanna gave Seven a look of incredulity. "Are you going to tell me you approve of this inefficient use of environmental controls?" 

Seven only smiled in a most uncharacteristic way. B'Elanna found it unsettling. 

"Why don't you pull Chakotay aside and tell him your secret, Doc?" Tom suggested. "You're obviously doing something right." 

Seven grinned again. "The Doctor does a great many things right, Lieutenant." 

"They're on their way," Samantha Wildman announced as she entered the holodeck. She made a face. "It's downright frigid in here."

  


"Tell me again why we're dressed like this?" Janeway asked as she and Chakotay entered the turbolift. They were both wearing flannel shirts and jeans. 

"Deck Fourteen. I honestly don't know. Tom said to wear flannel." 

"And we're listening to him why?" 

Chakotay shrugged.

  


"Is there a hull breach in here? It's freezing!" Janeway exclaimed as they entered the holodeck. 

"Blame Tom," B'Elanna muttered. 

"Authenticity, Captain," Tom replied brightly. "We couldn't properly enjoy a bonfire without a little chill in the air." 

Janeway settled down in front of the holographic fire, with Chakotay beside her. There were about two dozen other crewmembers present. She noticed that Seven and the Doctor appeared to be in their own little world. 

"So are we going to tell ghost stories?" Chakotay asked cheerfully. 

"If we are then I have a story that should frighten everyone sufficiently," Neelix said. 

"I don't know about that, Neelix." Janeway gestured vaguely at the small crowd. "We're Starfleet officers. We don't scare easy." 

Neelix laughed. "This one would chill the blood of Kahless himself." 

"Ah, but will it rattle the nerves of Kathryn Janeway? I think that is a truer test." Chakotay grinned and ducked in mock terror when she swatted him. 

When the laughter died down, Neelix began his tale.

  


The two biggest villages on the northern continent of the planet Zoflu were Asduff and Adleaf. To reach one from the other, back in the old times, was a long and dangerous journey through the Great Forest. Travelers could shave time off their travels by crossing the Great Plain, but few dared to try. 

The Great Forest was full of dangers, but they were dangers which were known and understood. Dangers which could be seen, and faced, and overcome. But the dangers of the Great Plain were mysterious and therefore all the more deadly. Many of those who tried to cross it were never heard from again. Those who survived the journey told fantastic and terrifying tales. No one ever crossed it twice. 

Jhan had heard all of the tales, each one more chilling than the last. Once, he had even met an old man who claimed to have crossed the Great Plain many years before. His goal, from that day forward, was to cross it himself. 

He had always been average, all of his life. Crossing the Great Plain would make him a hero, admired by all. He would cross it, and face its dangers bravely. He would succeed where others had failed. He would have the courage to repeat the journey, and all would know of Jhan, the Master of the Great Plain. And so he planned, and daydreamed, and counted the days until he would be old enough to be sent on a journey to Adleaf. 

The day came in his eighteenth summer. The village elders sent out a call for a young man or woman willing to make the journey so that a trade meeting could be arranged between Adleaf and Asduff. Jhan was the first to volunteer. 

"Go through the forest, Jhan," they warned. "That will be adventure enough for your first journey." 

But Jhan was a stubborn young man. He had been into the forest many times, to hunt and to forage. The forest offered no mystery to him. He wanted to explore the Great Plain. He wanted to be the first to cross it twice. 

And so Jhan set off across the plain, against the advice of all. If he failed to return on time, his village would be forced to send out a second messenger. But he knew it wouldn't be necessary. He would conquer the Great Plain. 

In the daylight, the terrain didn't seem threatening at all. In fact, it seemed far safer than the forest. The ground was flat and smooth. There were no tree roots or rocks to trip over. No large carnivorous beasts had left evidence of their passing. There were no trees for unknown dangers to lurk behind, and the view was clear as far as the eye could see. 

And then night fell. 

It was dark. Darker than night in the village ever could be. Darker even than night had seemed in the Great Forest. And it was silent. No birds or night creatures broke the stillness with their cries. There were no trees to shake their leaves in the wind. Just darkness and silence. 

Jhan tried to light his torch, but the fire wouldn't catch in the wind. Not since he was a small boy had Jhan struggled to make fire, but tonight the elements were stubborn. Even his best attempts at shielding his torch from the wind failed. Jhan started to think it wasn't the wind, but he didn't want to imagine what else it could be. 

He sat down in the dark, and shivered. 

Time passed with infinite slowness. Jhan experienced each minute fully, aware of the silence and the cold. Hours seemed to pass, and yet dawn did not come. Finally, unable to sit and wait another moment, Jhan stood and began to walk, blind, across the dark and silent plain. 

Each step into the black void had the potential to spell disaster for the young man, but he couldn't seem to stop. He could not sit still and wait for dawn. His fear knew no patience. 

Then it happened.

  


Neelix looked around at his tense audience. Everyone leaned towards him expectantly as he paused, allowing the suspense to build.

  


Suddenly, an eerie green light illuminated the barren plain. Jhan's heart froze in his chest. Blinded by the unanticipated intensity of the glow, he could hardly make out the ghostly apparition that emerged from the column of light. 

"Why have you come here?" A harsh, menacing voice with a strange, alien quality. "You do not belong here," the voice accused. "This is our place." 

"Who are you?" Jhan managed to ask. 

But the voice did not answer. 

"Who are you?" Jhan asked again, louder. 

The voice still did not answer. 

Jhan gathered his courage and tried again. "Who are you?" 

"Silence!" the voice rasped. 

Jhan stood his ground, trembling, but remained silent. He remembered one tale he had heard about a mysterious creature which emerged from a column of fire to chase a brave adventurer across the plain. Was this the creature? He didn't remember hearing that it could talk. 

"Please," Jhan whispered. "I am Jhan of Asduff, and I was just trying to reach Adleaf. Please let me continue on my journey." 

"What is this Adleaf?" the voice asked. 

And so, Jhan told the voice about his people, and the two villages. He told it about the trade meeting. He told it about the legends of the Great Plain. 

The voice laughed a great raspy laugh when he told of the column of fire. At last, Jhan finished, and the voice was heard again. "You have amused me, so I will not trouble you further. But I cannot speak for the others. If you travel here again, it will be at your peril. Now turn back, and make your journey through the forest." 

But Jhan had no desire to turn back. He would not go through the forest now. He had come this far. He would cross the Great Plain. 

Dawn was breaking. Jhan's fear lessened, and he hurried to finish his crossing before night came again. All day he rushed. He did not stop to rest. He did not stop to eat. He barely slowed to sip water from his canteen. 

But hurry as he might, Jhan could not outrun the night. Blackness descended upon the land once again. Jhan was once again faced with the total and complete darkness of the Great Plain. 

He did not attempt to light his torch. He knew the ground was flat. He knew the way was clear. But most of all, he knew that fire would not protect him if something came to seek him in the darkness. 

This time, there was no green light. 

This time, there was no raspy voice. 

This time was different.

  


Neelix again paused, teasing his audience. He smiled to himself. The suspense was building.

  


In the distance, Jhan could see two beings, glowing, but insubstantial. They were moving, circling each other, dancing to and fro in their own gray light, and Jhan had no choice but to continue in their direction. 

"I am not afraid," Jhan told himself with each step. "They will not hurt me and I am not afraid." 

He walked towards the ethereal beings. 

He was not afraid. 

He got closer. 

He was not afraid. 

He moved closer still. 

The beings noticed him. 

He was afraid. 

They rose above him, angry to have been disturbed. 

Jhan quaked in fear, sure that death was now upon him. 

And then it was daylight. 

Jhan, having missed two nights of sleep, was tired. But he continued on as the forest loomed into sight. He was glad. His thoughts were filled with how much spookier and forlorn the Great Plain seemed by the light of day, now that he had glimpsed its nighttime mysteries.

  


Sam broke the silence. "The Great Plains in that story reminded me of the moors in _Wuthering Heights_ ; now there was a book that could always make me cry." 

"I have never understood the human need to cry over fictional events," Seven said. "If it isn't real, why mourn over it?" 

"It can be enriching, therapeutic even, to empathize with a character and share something outside your own experiences," Janeway explained. 

"Perhaps you should find a novel to read," the Doctor said. "I, personally, have enjoyed many pieces of literature. Dante, for example." He smiled at the captain, who had given him his copy of _La Vita Nuova_. 

"I did read _A Christmas Carol_ , at your suggestion. While an interesting study of human nature, it failed to induce an emotional response." 

"Really?" Sam asked. "Dickens usually gets to me." 

"How about _A Tale of Two Cities_? That would bring tears to anyone's eyes. Now there's a heartbreaking story of unrequited love." Tom struggled not to look directly at the captain. "When Sydney Carton takes the place of Charles Darnay in that prison cell...How can you help but cry?" 

Harry shook his head. "I never liked that story. It's just too sad. He never even tells..." He shot his friend a questioning look. 

"Lucy," Tom supplied. 

"...that he loves her," Harry continued, "And he gives his life so that she can be with another man." 

"Who would do that?" a voice asked in the darkness. 

"I would," Chakotay said quietly. He sounded oddly distant. Janeway wondered if he was even aware that his hand had slid around her waist. "There is no greater pain than to lose someone you love; she loved another, not him, so he died to spare her that suffering. I can think of no sacrifice too great when it comes to the person that you love. Their needs come first. That's what it means to love." 

Janeway was extremely grateful for the darkness, because she was unable to keep her eyes from filling with tears. This wonderful man deserved someone who could return his love freely. He always put her needs ahead of his own; she had no doubt that he would go so far as to sacrifice his life for her happiness. 

What right did she have to expect him to wait, perhaps indefinitely, based on a promise that hadn't even been spoken aloud? And yet he would wait, and she loved him for it, even as she felt guilty for doing so.

  


They returned to his quarters, and he served her a cup of herbal tea. They sat on either end of the couch, silently enjoying each other's company for a while. 

"Stay." His request hung in the air. 

She knew his intentions were platonic. He was offering her sleep, as they had discussed earlier, and meant nothing more. And part of her was sorely tempted. But part of her wanted to flee, and part of her just wanted desperately to misinterpret his intention, crawl over to him, and kiss him with all of the passion he deserved. She found that the best she could manage was to not burst into tears at the sheer injustice of it all. 

Chakotay had expected one of two responses from Kathryn; either a wordy argument or the wordless compliance of two nights previous. He certainly had not expected this look of pain upon her face. "Kathryn?" 

Ironic, she thought miserably, usually she could talk to him about anything. She composed herself. "We'll compromise. I'm going back to my quarters, but if I end up here again, then we'll work something out." 

"I'll agree," he replied carefully, knowing that in reality he had no choice in the matter. "But only under one condition." 

"What?" 

"I want you to promise me that you won't just suffer alone. If you can't sleep again, or have another nightmare, I want to know." He moved closer to her and took her hand. "Look at me, and promise." 

She agreed.

  


The Borg cube fired again. Voyager rocked under the impact. Shields were failing. Janeway whirled towards the ops station, barely keeping her feet. Harry was knocked backwards. Unconscious or dead, she didn't know. 

A voice from Engineering. Lieutenant Carey. B'Elanna was dead. Tom barely had time to mourn; the conn erupted in a shower of sparks, and he was gone as well. 

She had failed them all. Janeway lunged for the helm, desperate to finish what Tom had been trying to do despite the plasma shooting out of the console. But Chakotay was quicker, and so she was still alive when the ship jumped to warp. But Chakotay was not. 

Janeway sat up in bed, the horrible image of her first officer's charred features still fresh in her mind. She got up and paced, reluctant to keep her promise to Chakotay. 

"Computer, locate the Doctor." 

"The EMH is in cargo bay two." 

Damn. 

She paced some more. She replicated herself a glass of warm milk. She found a book and sat staring blankly at the first page. She'd had a fair amount of sleep the last few days. Tonight, she could do without.

  


Chakotay paced around his quarters. He knew she wasn't sleeping. Could he trust her to keep her word? Ordinarily, yes. But in this case, he seriously doubted it. He headed for her quarters.

  


She looked up at him in surprise. He'd let himself into her quarters. She hadn't expected that. He crossed the room and stood before her. "You shouldn't make promises you don't intend to keep, Kathryn. Now are you coming to bed or do I have to carry you there?" 

She opened her mouth to object. He took another step towards her. Suddenly afraid he would actually pick her up, and unwilling to turn the incident into a confrontation, she put aside her book and stood. He let her lead the way back to his quarters.

  


Chakotay was on the turbolift, standing beside Kathryn. She turned to him, looking him in the eye. Her husky voice matched the unsuppressed passion in her gaze. "Computer, halt turbolift." 

He stared at her in surprise. "Kathryn?" 

She smiled up at him wickedly and slid her hands up his chest. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him towards her. "What are you waiting for, Chakotay?" she asked with false innocence. "Kiss me." 

As if in a trance, he lowered his mouth to hers, and as their lips made contact any thought of holding back was shattered. His arms encircled her body without his conscious intervention. His tongue danced with hers and he felt her moan into his mouth. 

Her hands were in his hair, trying to pull him even closer. She was pressing her body against his. Her hands traveled down his back, grasping at his buttocks and forcing him nearer still. 

Her treacherous hands moved again, tugging urgently at his clothing. She managed to free him of his jacket. She yanked at his turtleneck and forced him back against the wall to kiss his chest. 

She paused for a moment in her assault, unzipping her own uniform as he struggled to catch his breath. He watched in stunned disbelief as she pulled her turtleneck over her head, leaving her clad only in the gray cotton undergarment beneath. She launched herself back into his arms, kissing him fiercely. 

He caressed the bare skin of her lower back as their tongues again tangled. Her busy hands found the front of his trousers. 

He woke up, gasping for air. He looked at the woman laying beside him, and cursed himself for his thoughts. Her hand had escaped the confines of the blankets and was resting on his chest. He was surprised that the pounding of his heart hadn't disturbed her sleep. He lay there, trying to relax and direct his thoughts away from his reaction to her accidental touch.

  


### Day Ten

"I'm having second thoughts about all of this," Tom admitted to B'Elanna and Harry. "Chakotay doesn't need any urging; he's just waiting for her." 

"And I think he'd really wait another thirty years if necessary." B'Elanna shook her head and sighed. "Did you hear the emotion in his voice as he explained the meaning of love? I don't see how she can choose to ignore that." 

"Don't think she wasn't affected." Tom defended his captain fiercely. "She was. I saw her fighting back tears last night." 

"So maybe that means that this is all working," Harry said. "We're making it harder for her to keep it all bottled up." 

"But is that really fair?" Tom asked. "We need to convince them to go forward, not just rub their noses in what they seem to think they can't ever have." 

"Maybe we need to discuss their various excuses and see if we can't find a way to remove some of them," the Doctor suggested as he arrived. 

Seven was right behind him. "Torturing them does lack efficiency." 

The holodeck doors opened again, admitting Neelix, Sam, Joe, Lyssa, Megan, Garan, and several dozen other crew members. 

"Did it occur to any of you that entering in a pack is probably a little obvious?" Tom asked. 

"Don't worry, Tom," Neelix said. "Tuvok's on the bridge and Captain Janeway is in Chakotay's quarters." 

Tom gave him a look. "I thought we agreed not to use the internal sensors for that, but what do you mean the captain is in Chakotay's quarters?" 

"Oh, don't get excited," B'Elanna said. "He probably just made her breakfast again." 

"She made him dinner last night," Neelix announced. 

Harry waved his hand dismissively. "So? They always eat together." 

"Ah, but she never cooks." Neelix wagged a finger at the group. 

"There's a reason for that, you know," Tom said. "And if she cooked for him last night, then she's probably in his quarters now just to make sure that she didn't poison him." 

Lyssa Campbell disagreed. "After that speech he gave at the bonfire last night, maybe she finally gave in. I know I would have." 

"I'm afraid that's wishful thinking," B'Elanna said. "But I'll see if I can't catch Chakotay alone sometime today." 

"Be discreet." Tom's unnecessary warning was rewarded with a dirty look from B'Elanna. 

"Be discreet," Harry muttered. "This from the one who got kicked off the bridge for humming."

  


Janeway slipped out of bed, careful not to wake Chakotay. He needed to catch up on some sleep. There was an advantage to being the captain; she could take him off the duty roster for the day. Then again, if she weren't captain, she'd be able to reward his most recent helpfulness in much more interesting ways. 

Again, for what must have been the thousandth time in the last week or so, Janeway had to chide herself for her inappropriate thoughts. What had happened to the day when she only fantasized about seducing Chakotay once or twice a week, rather than once or twice an hour? She headed off in search of breakfast, and, more importantly, coffee.

  


B'Elanna headed for the mess hall, half hoping to catch Chakotay. Instead, she was surprised to see the captain eating breakfast alone. 

"Good morning, Captain. Where's Chakotay?" 

"Asleep." The word slipped out before Janeway had a chance to think. She looked at B'Elanna. The chief engineer didn't seem to question how the captain had come by her knowledge of the first officer's sleeping habits. "Care to join me?" 

The last thing B'Elanna wanted was for the captain to read any sign of shock on her face. It wasn't possible that Lyssa was right, was it? Neelix had said the captain was in Chakotay's quarters earlier. No, without more proof, B'Elanna wouldn't believe it. After all, there were thousands of possible innocent explanations, most of which were more likely. 

Regardless, B'Elanna decided to keep the conversation on neutral topics. If she had managed to get Chakotay alone, she probably could have wheedled some information from him, but she doubted that she'd have the same ability with Janeway. She and the captain sat and discussed engineering issues over breakfast, and neither mentioned the commander again.

  


When the captain arrived on the bridge without the first officer, Tom decided to try to take advantage of the situation. Although he wasn't sure how, he wanted to work on the captain alone. He would have felt guilty inflicting further torture on poor Chakotay at this point, but he wanted some clue as to what was causing Janeway to hold back. 

He was surprised when B'Elanna emerged from the turbolift and headed for the science station. She leaned over and whispered something to Samantha, who nodded. Both women glanced at Tom. Were they laughing at him? He watched as B'Elanna took the engineering station herself. 

Tom tried to catch B'Elanna's eye, but failed. He turned to Harry, who only shrugged. It wasn't long before the usual idle chatter took over the bridge.

  


"...so therefore, since the tree falling produces sound waves, it is illogical to say that it makes no sound, regardless of whether anyone is present to hear it or not." 

"That was fun. Anyone else have a pointless issue to debate?" Tom asked. 

Samantha Wildman spoke up. "How about the question of the lady and the tiger?" 

"I do not believe I am familiar with that question, Ensign." Tuvok replied. "Please elaborate." 

"A princess falls in love with a commoner. Her father refuses to let them be together, and subjects him to a cruel punishment. He is sent into an arena, and must choose between two doors. Behind one door is a hungry tiger; behind the other is a potential bride. 

"The princess knows what lies behind each door, and as her lover enters the arena, she secretly indicates which door she wishes him to choose. The question, therefore, is whether he opens the door to be greeted by the lady, or the tiger." 

Janeway shrugged. "I've always failed to see the dilemma. It's the lady. Issues of basic morality aside, if she loves him at all, then how could she possibly choose otherwise?" 

"But perhaps he'd prefer the tiger." Chakotay stepped out of the turbolift and headed for his seat. 

Janeway looked at her first officer with surprise, both at his presence and at his words. "Wouldn't that be a little extreme, Commander? I can't possibly see how it could be the tiger; she'd have to be heartless." 

"I didn't say that she would choose the tiger." 

"You have overlooked part of the puzzle, Captain," Tuvok said. "The question is not merely which would she choose, but what is behind the door that he opens." 

"He may not trust her," Samantha suggested. "Does he really open the door she indicates?" 

Tom had a slightly different theory. "The real question is how well he knows her heart, and what does he choose himself." 

"I see only one logical course of action," Chakotay decided. "He shouldn't open the door she indicates, but the other." 

"That's what I would do," Tom agreed. 

"How do you figure?" Harry asked. 

"If she loves him unselfishly, she'll send him to the lady. In that case, she is worth dying for, and he should chose the tiger," Chakotay explained. "If she has chosen the tiger, then he is better off to go on with his life without her. He should chose the lady." 

"Exactly." Tom was nodding in agreement. 

B'Elanna snorted. 

Janeway shook her head. "I disagree. How could he knowingly chose the tiger? He'd be gone, leaving her to live the rest of her life thinking that he didn't trust her." 

"I would hope that she'd realize his choice, and understand," Chakotay answered. 

Before Janeway could open her mouth to argue, Tuvok spoke up again. "There is a flaw in your logic, Commander. Death is rarely the logical choice, yet in the scenario you have drawn, it is the more probable outcome." 

"Don't you see, Tuvok?" Tom asked. "It isn't about logic, it's about love. He doesn't want her to picture him in the arms of another woman." 

"So he chooses to die?" B'Elanna decided that she'd heard enough impractical sappiness from both Tom and Chakotay. "I think you two are both being foolish. And here's a question: What about this other woman? Why must she be a pawn in this sick game?" 

Captain Janeway laughed. "I have to agree with you, B'Elanna. It's hardly fair to her at all." 

"I guess if we think about the lady, things get a little more complex," Harry decided seriously. "No one ever gives her any thought." 

"Do you think she'd be insulted that he chose a violent death over life with her?" Tom said. "And how does the tiger feel about all of this?" 

Chakotay chuckled. "The tiger is probably content either way, Tom. It is unaware of the dilemma, but might possibly get a tasty treat." 

That was better, B'Elanna decided. She exchanged a look with the captain, who seemed to agree. Perhaps she was reading too much into it, but B'Elanna fancied that Janeway was even a bit grateful for the lighter mood. 

Personally, she was just glad that Tom hadn't had the chance to put his foot in his mouth. The look in his eye as they left the meeting had prompted her to head up to the bridge to babysit, and she wasn't sorry that she had.

  


When Tom had announced that he planned on staging yet another movie in the holodeck, Chakotay was thrilled. Of all the possible evening activities, a film definitely required the least effort from those in attendance, and Chakotay was sorely in need of rest. Sitting quietly in the dark was something he could handle. 

He looked at Kathryn, seated beside him, and grinned. "So what do you think Tom will be showing us this evening? Another fascinating look at the twentieth century's view of the future?" 

She returned his smile. "Does it matter?" Had she said that out loud? She might have been more annoyed with herself if not for the delighted amusement she read in his expression. She could stare at those dimples all night. 

He chuckled softly. "No, it certainly doesn't." 

He was surprised she had said that. Regulating the exact amount of flirting required for their unique relationship was complicated. It was a vital element. It was part of what kept their unspoken promise for the future alive. But too much was dangerous, and Kathryn was usually far more cautious. 

The lights dimmed. Chakotay put an arm around Kathryn and gave her shoulder an affectionate squeeze. She slid an arm around him as well, and rested her head on his shoulder once again. 

They both made an effort to watch the screen. At the very least, they should learn the title of the film. Ah, there it was. Good, because he had lost interest. Chakotay found Kathryn's hand and brushed her fingers with his lips. She shivered. 

He was wondering how he was going to make it through the evening without kissing her. For some inscrutable reason they had both decided that all of the rules didn't quite apply while in this theater, but he knew that once he kissed her, there was no going back. That barrier could not be taken down; there were larger issues at stake. 

She wanted to kiss him. She wanted very badly to kiss him. In fact, she wanted to do much more than kiss him. Her fingers still tingled from the contact with his lips. She was acutely aware that his thumb was tracing circles on the back of her hand. 

Her eyes drifted shut and she wished that they were anywhere, absolutely anywhere, but on Voyager's holodeck in the Delta Quadrant. It didn't matter where, just somewhere where she wasn't the captain; somewhere where she was free to love this man. 

The film, which involved a man somehow trapped in an ancient computer game, was uninspiring. Chakotay decided he probably couldn't have made himself pay attention to it even without the distracting presence of Kathryn. It felt so good to hold her. He thought of all the times he had longed to put his arm around her, but couldn't, and was grateful for the opportunity this holodeck program provided. 

He shifted ever so slightly, resting his cheek against her hair, and closed his eyes. This was as it should be. He had never been more content in his life. He allowed himself to daydream about a future in the Alpha Quadrant, and he was soon asleep. 

Janeway ignored the film, listening instead to the soothing sound of Chakotay's heartbeat. Someday, she promised him silently, someday we'll be home. She too eventually dozed off.

  


By the time the movie ended, the theater was almost empty. Even Tom had nodded off, and B'Elanna had apparently abandoned him. The absence of sound woke him, and he got up to leave. Then he noticed the two people seated behind him. 

They were asleep in each other's arms. Her head rested on his shoulder, his face was buried in her hair. Tom decided that they looked far too happy to disturb. 

"Computer, remove the armrest between seats..." Tom counted quickly. "...H5 and H6 and play music selection Paris beta one." 

He regarded the sleeping couple thoughtfully. "Computer, add footrests and gradually recline seats forty five degrees." He watched tensely as the seats shifted, fearing the movement would wake them. 

Chakotay stirred slightly and seemed to tighten his hold on the captain. Tom smiled. He made several other program modifications, until the pair was asleep on something resembling a bed. 

"Computer, give me a medium weight quilt." Tom carefully covered his commanding officers with the holographic blanket, and with that, he turned to leave. "Lights off. Engage privacy locks. Sleep well, children."

  


The Delta Flyer was practically bursting with supplies from a successful trading mission. Chakotay was now piloting it back to the rendezvous point, where they would be rejoining Voyager. 

Kathryn got up from her seat to his left, and to his utter shock climbed into his lap. She wrapped her arms around his neck and smiled mischievously. "Are you going to kiss me or do I have to make it an order?" 

His eyes drifted shut and his lips met hers. He felt her tongue seeking entrance to his mouth, and he parted his lips as he enfolded her body in his arms. He savored the feeling of her body pressed against his as their kiss gained momentum. 

For the third night in a row, Chakotay awoke with a pounding heart. There was a pleasant, warm weight on his chest. Kathryn. She was snuggled up to him, with her head on his chest. Her steady breathing told him that she was sound asleep. He had his arm around her. At least they both seemed to be dressed. 

He was puzzled as to how this turn of events had come to pass, but he didn't dare wake her. If the situation embarrassed her, then she would certainly go back to sleeping alone; or more accurately, not sleeping at all. It would be far better if she were to think him unaware of her proximity. He would have to lay quietly and wait for her to wake up on her own, then feign sleep when she did. 

Chakotay tried to remember the previous evening, but he could remember nothing after the dull movie. He couldn't even remember leaving the dull movie, and he had a sudden horrifying thought. With the arm that wasn't holding Kathryn, he reached out into the dark to explore his surroundings. They were not in his quarters. They were still on the holodeck, albeit with some modifications. 

He thought frantically. Kathryn would not be amused if she knew that they had been caught napping in the theater. He wasn't happy about it himself. And someone had most certainly caught them; the program had been altered to provide them with a mattress and blanket. It had to be Paris' handiwork. 

What were his options? If he called for a site to site transport, then he'd alert both engineering and security to their dilemma. Anything he did ran the risk of waking Kathryn. Yet they certainly couldn't stay here much longer. He took a moment to memorize the glorious feeling of holding her sleeping form, then gently tried to extract himself from beneath her. She mumbled, then woke. 

"Chakotay?" Her voice was still heavy with sleep. She tried to get her bearings. 

"It seems we've been the victims of a practical joke," he told her reluctantly. "Switch combadges with me, and I'll have you transported to my quarters. I'll be along after I've killed Tom Paris." 

"No," she said softly. "I'll take care of Paris in the morning. We can walk back to your quarters together."

  


### Day Eleven

"Tom did what?" Harry stood and stared at B'Elanna with his mouth hanging open. 

"He left Chakotay and the captain asleep on the holodeck," she said. "If they're still in there, we'll have to hold the meeting in the cargo bay." 

"What about holodeck two?" 

"Tuvok's in there." 

"Oh." Harry noticed the look on B'Elanna's face. "What is it, Maquis?" 

She grinned. "Wait until you hear what Tom's got planned for tonight, Starfleet."

  


Janeway looked none too happy when she arrived on the bridge. "Paris, my ready room. Now." 

When they were alone, she gave him a stern look. "Explain yourself, Mister Paris." 

"The movie was a little dull, Captain, as you obviously noticed. When it ended, I realized everyone had snuck out early. Except for you and Chakotay, of course. I didn't want to wake you, so I just modified the program a little." Tom managed to look reasonably serious. "No one else saw you, I swear. Not even B'Elanna. And I engaged the privacy locks." 

"Well, as much as I appreciate that," Janeway drawled, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "I'd advise you not to pull a stunt like that again." 

"With all due respect, Captain, what should I have done?" His eyes glinted with amusement. "If I had left you in theater seats, then you'd blame my dull movie for your sore necks. I couldn't have that." 

She felt her anger eroding a bit. Tom Paris was one of the few who treated her like a person as well as a captain. He had treated her no differently than he would have treated any hapless crewman who fell asleep on the holodeck. Part of her didn't mind at all. 

"No harm done, I suppose. But next time, wake us up." 

Tom couldn't resist. "Next time, Captain?" 

"I'd advise you leave before I change my mind and throw you in the brig." 

Neither of them were entirely sure whether or not she was joking.

  


Another day of dull routine and casual banter drew to a close for Voyager's alpha shift. The captain and first officer returned to her quarters for dinner. Neither of them had mentioned the holodeck all day. 

Chakotay approached the subject with care. "I noticed that Paris is still breathing." 

"I'd hate to lose our best pilot. And I'm a little afraid of B'Elanna." 

"Oh yeah? And here I thought Kathryn Janeway wasn't afraid of anything." 

"I'm a little leery of what Neelix may have planned for tonight. Why won't he tell us?" 

Before either of them could speculate further, they heard the whine of a transporter beam. Both were instantly alert as they watched a shape materialize above the couch. Empty blue fabric collapsed onto the furniture. 

"What the - " she started to ask. Her combadge chirped. 

"Paris to Janeway." 

"Janeway," she responded crisply. "I assume this is your doing, Tom?" 

"Just a little thank you gift for not throwing me in the brig this morning. I thought you might like to wear it tonight; maybe it will keep the commander awake." 

She ignored the quip and held up the garment. Tom had good taste. What there was of it was breathtaking. 

Spirits, seeing her in that will keep me awake for a week, Chakotay thought. He was torn between the desire to thank Tom and the desire to murder him. 

With tremendous effort, he managed to speak. "Well, it looks like I'd better go change. I'm about to be severely underdressed."

  


She seriously considered not wearing the dress. Between the height of the hemline and the revealing cut of the bodice, it was hardly appropriate attire for the captain of a Starfleet vessel. But, truth be told, she was rather proud of the fact that she could pull it off. 

Besides, she couldn't stand the thought of facing Tom if she didn't wear the thing; he was probably preparing to torment her mercilessly for not being brave enough to wear his gift. She decided to call his bluff. It would serve the helmsman right if B'Elanna happened to learn the origin of the dress.

  


Chakotay suffered a moment's confusion when Ensign Vorik intercepted him in the corridor. With typical Vulcan calm, he presented the first officer with some clothing. "Lieutenant Paris asked me to deliver these, sir." 

"Is Lieutenant Paris dressing the entire crew this evening, Ensign?" 

The Vulcan didn't miss a beat. "As illogical as that does seem, sir, I believe your conclusion to be correct. This has not been my only delivery."

  


A half hour later Chakotay returned to the captain's quarters, still wondering how Tom had scraped together enough replicator rations to outfit half the crew in formal wear. All ship related issues fled the instant he laid eyes on Kathryn. He suddenly developed a heart arrhythmia and breathing became a complicated task. 

"Wow," he gasped. He couldn't have torn his eyes away from her to save his life. "Wow." 

"I'm glad you approve, Chakotay," she said softly. She saw the naked hunger in his eyes and couldn't quite bring herself to mind. She gave him an appraising look and was not disappointed. "You clean up pretty darn well yourself." 

Later, he wondered by what herculean effort he managed to not pick her up and carry her into the bedroom. Instead, he took both of her hands in his and leaned in to gently kiss her cheek. 

Her skin quivered at his touch. She concentrated very hard on breathing. It would have been so easy to turn her head ever so slightly, brush his lips with her own, forget all about Starfleet and fall into his arms. 

The air around them crackled with tension. It was Chakotay who managed to gather his senses first. "Well, we should get going." 

"Yes, we should." 

Neither of them moved. 

"Chakotay?" 

"Yes, Kathryn?" 

"Could I have my hands back now?" 

"Oh, right." Flustered, he tried to smile. "Sorry." 

Guiltily, she realized that she was enjoying this; she wasn't exactly accustomed to having this effect on men. While she considered herself adequately attractive, only Chakotay looked at her and saw a striking beauty. 

She wondered just how long they could afford to stand and stare at each other, then decided they were already in dangerous territory. She slid her arm through Chakotay's and they headed for the turbolift.

  


Tom Paris was grinning like a child on Christmas morning as he stood in the holodeck and surveyed the fruits of his labor. It hadn't been easy, but he had managed to get several dozen members of the crew into formal attire. Harry Kim was escorting Lyssa Campbell. They made an attractive couple, Tom decided, taking a moment to appreciate how the pretty blonde ensign looked in her emerald green dress. 

Samantha Wildman sported a high necked sleeveless gown in rich burgundy. Megan Delaney wore daring red, and not much of it, while her sister Jenny was dressed more conservatively in soft pink. Tom had insisted that the captain be the only one in blue, and despite the fact that B'Elanna thought he was being exceptionally silly, everyone had played along. 

Quite a few crew members seemed to be benefiting from Tom's plan. Billy Telfer didn't seem to be capable of prying his eyes off of Tal Celes, and she certainly didn't appear to mind. Mariah Henley and Marla Gilmore were attracting attention as well. 

Keeping his own eyes off of B'Elanna was going to present something of a challenge for the evening. Dressed in a simple black gown with spaghetti straps, she was across the room, fiddling with the Doctor's mobile emitter. Seven stood beside her in a full length, curve hugging silver number. 

The captain made her entrance, and Tom gulped. She looked every bit as amazing as he had imagined she would in that dress. He whistled as the command team approached him. "Not many Starfleet captains have legs like that." 

"I only know of one." Chakotay turned and grinned at his companion. 

She swatted his arm and laughed. "Gentlemen, please. Kissing up to the captain isn't necessary." 

B'Elanna sidled up to Tom. "Close your mouth, my dear, you're drooling." 

Tom slid his arm around B'Elanna's waist and tried feebly to defend himself. "You know I only have eyes for you." 

"Yeah, right." She shot him a menacing look, then broke into a grin. "Why can I never stay mad at you?" 

"Because I'm irresistible?" Tom batted his eyelashes ridiculously and earned a scornful snort from his beloved.

  


"I'm glad to see so many crew members in attendance tonight," Neelix was saying. "Since everyone is probably anxious to get started, I'll make this brief. The rules are simple. To remain in the game, you must not break contact with your partner at any time. The last couple left dancing is the winner." 

Chakotay was torn between elation and sincere worry. On one hand, he wanted nothing more than to have Kathryn in his arms all night. On the other hand, he very much feared that he didn't possess the amount of self control that would be required under those circumstances. 

Her thoughts ran along the same lines. If Chakotay crossed the line by so much as an inch, her resolve would crumble into dust, and she knew it. But she wasn't going to squander this opportunity; excuses to dance with her handsome first officer were usually few and far between. 

Chakotay took her hand in his and they moved onto the dance floor together. The hand not holding hers came to rest on her slender waist. Their eyes met and they shared a smile. He chuckled. "Shall we try to win this thing?" 

"Oh, absolutely." Her blue eyes glittered with mischief. "I think it's our sacred duty to defeat Tom Paris." 

Instead of agreeing, as she had expected, he pulled her closer and whispered in her ear. "I don't know. I'm pretty happy with Tom right now." When she looked at him in surprise, he grinned and pushed his luck. "Do you have any idea how beautifully that dress matches your eyes?" 

"I might have some idea," she answered quietly, her heart hammering madly. She tried desperately to find a safer topic. She spotted Harry and his date. "When did Harry start seeing Ensign Campbell?" 

He recognized her attempt to change the subject, and reluctantly complied. "That must be a recent development. I hadn't heard anything." 

"Maybe they aren't." She shrugged. For a moment, they both tried very hard to care about whether or not the ops officer was dating the transporter chief. 

Their failing efforts were interrupted when the music increased in tempo. Relieved, they faced the challenge of an assortment of dance steps from around the Federation. 

Not surprisingly, most of the selections seemed to have their origin on twentieth century Earth. Dancing the twist without losing body contact proved something of a challenge, but they managed, clinging firmly to each other's hands. 

Something called the hustle tricked a few couples into accidentally breaking apart. The fast dances were promptly discontinued after a Spanish dance which involved clapping. Calling fowl, a number of couples chose to simply ignore the pace of the music. 

Janeway and Chakotay felt obligated to be good sports. He wrapped his arms firmly around her waist and declared that she could clap for both of them. They didn't dance particularly well, but they didn't lose contact. They were laughing and panting by the time the music finally slowed again. 

Chakotay was busy trying to ignore the enticement presented by Kathryn's bare shoulders when he caught her grinning at him. 

"What?" He searched her face for a clue as to the source of her amusement. 

She nodded in the direction of an enthusiastic Megan Delaney, who was draped over a rather shell shocked Lieutenant Chell. 

He smiled as well. "I guess she's given up on me." 

"Disappointed?" 

"Not even slightly. She's not my type." 

Against her own better judgment, she asked the obvious question. "And just what is your type, Chakotay?" 

You, every fiber of his being screamed silently, you and only you. The answer to her teasing question became immensely important as he tried to find a way to say what he felt without really saying it. His answer needed to fit with the rules of their relationship. 

The intensity of his gaze unnerved her slightly as she awaited his reply. When it came, almost too late to pass off as easy banter, his light tone was at odds with the sincerity in his eyes. 

"My type? She'd have to be perfect. Auburn hair, of course. Stunning blue eyes full of wisdom. Beauty. Brains. Incredible courage." He grinned. "And I have always been partial to amazing legs." 

She melted. This was the moment she had feared for so long; the moment when her self control let her down. Her hands slid behind his neck of their own volition and their eyes met as she pulled him towards her. 

Just kiss her, his heart screamed. If only he believed that a soul-searing kiss would permanently destroy the boundaries, leading to a new life together. But he knew the difference between reality and fantasy, and he thoroughly understood the potential consequences. He could neither kiss her nor let her kiss him. 

Instead, he brought his hand to her face, lightly tracing her lips with the tip of his finger. She closed her eyes at his touch. Her defenses were down, and in this moment he was seeing a Kathryn he had glimpsed only fleetingly before. He drank in the sight. His hand slipped into her hair, and he gently pulled her closer, not to kiss her, but instead to hold her cheek to cheek as they danced. 

Chakotay had saved her yet again, she realized gratefully as she struggled to regain control of her senses. She had almost ruined everything; thank goodness he had more self control than she did. Yet even with disaster only narrowly averted, she found herself able to think of little else but the pleasant sensations created by the warm skin of his cheek brushing against her face. 

Actual dancing was at this point little more than a pretense, yet neither of them was willing to break contact. Later, they could pretend it was the silly contest, even if they both knew better. Now, they both needed this, and would not be denied.

  


Eventually, there were only four couples left. Tom and B'Elanna. Seven and the Doctor. Harry and Lyssa. And the command team. In an attempt to distract herself from temptation, Janeway analyzed the remaining competition. 

Neither Seven nor the Doctor needed sleep, so they had a definite edge. Yet the newness of their relationship could eventually make the lure of her quarters a bit too strong to ignore. 

Tom and B'Elanna didn't lack for stamina, and were both stubborn enough to dance until morning, but they too could possibly succumb to other temptations. Neither was well known for restraint. 

Harry and Lyssa were the unknown factor. They were both good officers, and they had performed impressively in much more adverse conditions. If they wanted to win this contest, they were probably capable of doing so. If they were dating, then they hadn't been for long, and that could be either an advantage or a disadvantage. 

As for herself and Chakotay, nothing short of a red alert was going to pry her out of his arms. And as tantalizing as the thought of his quarters might be at the moment, that was a temptation she had a great deal of practice ignoring. 

She felt the need to break the silence; to ensure that their easy bantering had not been damaged by her earlier actions. She spoke softly. "I think the remaining competition could be a little long on endurance." 

Chakotay started a bit at the sound of her voice. They had been silent for a while. For too long, he realized, and she had noticed. He pulled back slightly to look at her face. Did he dare admit that he hadn't heard what she said? 

He hadn't heard her, she realized. She tried to clarify her statement without letting him know that she had noticed his lapse. "Seven and the Doctor might last a while at this game." 

"It's fine with me if they hold out all night." His voice was thick with emotion. "I'm not really interested in letting you go." 

As much as it pained her to do so, she forced herself to add a note of warning to her voice. "Chakotay..." 

"I know." His expression was full of longing. He stroked her face tenderly. "But someday." 

The word went straight to her heart. The vulnerability in his face made it impossible for her to hide from him in this moment. She let her own emotions show on her face and returned his promise for the future. "Someday." 

No word had ever affected him so deeply. He glanced around to make sure they were unobserved, then pressed a kiss to her temple. They pulled each other close again, and danced.

  


Seven and the Doctor had forgotten all about the commanding officers. Their assignment for the evening had simply been to dance, keeping the contest alive for as long as the captain remained on the floor. 

They were doing that, although they no longer consciously remembered why. She was doing things that would have made him forget his own name, if he'd had one.

  


Tom was depending on Harry to keep an eye on the captain. He could tell that Seven and the Doctor weren't paying attention to anything but each other, and with B'Elanna in his arms he was a bit distracted himself. At the moment, she was biting his neck, and it was driving him wild.

  


Harry felt like he had been dancing for a week; in truth it had been nearly four hours. He was glad that his partner was Lyssa. Her sense of humor had been tremendously helpful on many an away mission, and it was turning this evening into an enjoyable experience. He was therefore startled when she brushed a tear from her eye. 

"Sorry," she whispered. She grinned at him. "I guess they're getting to me." 

He turned slightly and glanced at the captain. She and Chakotay appeared to be holding on to each other for dear life. Seven and the Doctor were now locked in a passionate kiss, and Tom's neck appeared to be in serious jeopardy. 

Harry looked back at his partner. "Not feeling left out, are you?" 

She laughed cheerfully. "Don't worry, Harry. If I get the urge to bite your neck I'll warn you first."

  


B'Elanna was starting to get frustrated. She hadn't expected Tom to last this long on the dance floor and it usually took far less effort on her part to lure him back to her quarters. She pressed her body more firmly against his and ran her hands down his back to grasp his backside. "Let's go." 

When he didn't respond, she slid a hand in between their bodies and grabbed him more convincingly. "Now, Flyboy." Her insistent hand definitely had his attention. "Back to my quarters, or I'll drop your pants right here." 

Tom had little doubt that she'd make good on her threat. He glanced around. Seven and the Doctor wouldn't notice; neither would the captain and Chakotay, from the looks of things. Harry and Lyssa appeared to be busily whispering to each other, but they were far from oblivious to their surroundings. 

"Okay, let's go," Tom agreed. He really had very little choice in the matter.

  


Chakotay could have wept with joy. She had said 'someday' to him. It was more than he ever dared to hope, here in the Delta Quadrant. Neither of them had spoken since; they had just danced. It felt so right to have her in his arms; to be able to hold her against his heart. He didn't want this magical night to end. 

Someday. The word was the dominant presence in Kathryn's mind. It was a declaration of love, a promise for the future, and at the same time, a promise not to tamper with the present. She remembered how tactfully he had stopped her from kissing him earlier. He understood her so well. 

Her savior. That's what he was in so many ways. He had saved her life, her sanity, her very soul. He kept her from being alone out here in the Delta Quadrant. His strong shoulders were always there for her, taking as much of the burden as she was willing to share. 

Someday they would be together, really together. Someday, after she got this crew home. Someday, after she had convinced the Federation to pardon the Maquis. Someday, after they had crossed an uncharted thirty thousand light years full of hostile aliens and previously unknown spatial anomalies. But definitely someday. 

She had looked into his eyes, so full of love and longing, and had given him the only promise she could. Someday. It wasn't enough. He deserved so much more. But he understood, agreed even, and they could live with it. At least, finally, something had been said out loud. And they had once again been given an excuse to hold each other. She was starting to enjoy this region of space.

  


Lyssa and Harry shared an awkward laugh as B'Elanna dragged Tom off the holodeck. "And then there were three," Harry said. "If only the captain and Chakotay would follow suit." 

"They won't. Not tonight. We need a different strategy." 

"What makes you so sure?" 

"I heard what they said to each other earlier." 

"If this isn't working, then why are we still here?" 

"Look at them. That's as close to happy as they ever get. How can we take away their excuse? I'll stay here until my shift starts, if necessary." 

Harry glanced at his commanding officers and nodded. "I will, too."

  


Chakotay didn't want to do what he was about to do. But he had no choice. The ship came first, and Voyager needed reasonably rested commanding officers. "Kathryn?" 

"Mmmm?" 

"It's past 0200 hours. Tom and B'Elanna left." 

She looked at him in shock. 

"I guess it's true what they say about time." 

"What's that?" 

"It flies when you're having fun." 

"I guess it does." 

They had to go. They both knew it. They stalled. 

"Harry looks exhausted," she observed. "He can't last much longer." 

He grinned at her. "Maybe we can win, after all. Tom and B'Elanna are out." 

They both turned to look at Seven and the Doctor. 

"Good thing he doesn't really need oxygen," she said, grinning. 

He laughed. "Unfortunately, he doesn't need sleep, either. And as much as I hate to admit it, I do." 

He felt a tremendous sense of loss when they separated. He made sure Harry and Lyssa weren't looking, then slid an arm around her waist as they walked out. 

Relieved when he reestablished contact, she reciprocated, slipping her arm around him as well. They headed for the turbolift. 

He gave her a questioning look when they approached his quarters. 

"I'll be over in a few minutes," she answered softly. 

He nodded, and stood in the entrance way to watch her walk down the corridor to her own door.

  


Harry and Lyssa weren't sure whether to be relieved or disappointed when Captain Janeway and Commander Chakotay left the holodeck. 

"I guess we can go now," Harry said. 

"In a minute," Lyssa answered. "Let me tell you what I overheard earlier." 

"Oh, right," he replied, tired but interested. 

"The captain made some comment about the Doctor and Seven, and Chakotay replied by saying 'It's fine with me if they hold out all night. I'm not really interested in letting you go.' Captain Janeway started to say something, and he stopped her and said 'I know, but someday.'" 

"Wow. What did she say to that?" 

"Someday." Lyssa smiled sadly. "Then he kissed her on the forehead and they went back to dancing." 

"That's..." He shook his head. 

"I know. We have to find a way."

  


"Commander, my ready room, now." 

Startled, Chakotay shot Kathryn a questioning look, then followed her off of the bridge. The ready room doors slid shut behind them. 

"Computer, engage privacy locks," Kathryn ordered as she leaned back against her desk. 

"What's this about, Captain?" Chakotay asked. 

"It's almost time for crew evaluations," she replied in a voice far too sultry for such a mundane statement. "I thought you might like the opportunity to impress me before I start yours." 

Too stunned by her behavior to respond, he merely stood and watched as she none too carefully cleared the surface of her desk. Her hand moved to the zipper of her uniform jacket. 

"Are you going to give me a hand with this, Chakotay, or are you just going to stand there gaping?" 

He stood there gaping. 

Her jacket hit the floor. 

Time froze. 

A quick movement and her turtleneck followed her jacket. 

His control broke. He closed the distance between them swiftly. Placing his hands on either side of her face, he looked deep into her eyes. "Kathryn?" 

In answer to his question, she slid her hands around his waist, pulling his body against her own. Her hands moved to liberate him from his uniform. He bent his head and kissed her.

  



	3. Chapter 3

### Day Twelve

Chakotay headed for sickbay the moment he was dressed. One dream he could ignore, it happened, but four in a row? This was getting serious. He couldn't risk a continuation of the pattern; not right now. 

"Doctor, I was hoping you could help me out with a problem I've been having. The last couple of nights I've had some...unwelcome dreams." Chakotay looked distinctly uncomfortable. "Is there something you could do to stop them?" 

Interesting, thought the Doctor. First the captain, and now the first officer; definitely a pattern. He saw the opportunity to dispense some advice, and took it. "If you're having erotic dreams about one another then my recommendation is to act on them. Physical attraction is not a disease. You can't spend the next forty years taking hormone suppressants, or dream suppressants, or whatever it is you're trying to get me to prescribe." 

Chakotay stared at him. "What do you mean, one another?" 

Damn. Had he really said that? He'd have to run a diagnostic on his ethical subroutines; that was pretty close to a breach of confidentiality. 

The Doctor scrambled to cover. "A slip of the tongue, Commander. Although I would not be surprised if it was true. Why don't you just tell the captain of your feelings for her?" 

"I never said it was Kathryn." 

"Oh, who the hell else would it be?" The Doctor didn't bother to mask his annoyance. "Really, Commander. I'm not blind." 

The first officer eyed the Doctor nervously as he tried to choose between anger and candor. "What gave me away?" he asked at last. 

The Doctor almost snorted. "What didn't give you away, Commander? For me, the first clue was the fact that every time she's in the same room, you display the symptoms of the Tanzian flu." 

"I guess a man can't hide anything from his doctor," Chakotay said. "I do expect you to keep this to yourself. Please don't say anything to the captain." 

"I wouldn't dream of it." The whole ship knows, Commander, he thought. Why not tell the captain? But he held his holographic tongue.

  


"Where's the Doc?" Tom Paris asked. "We really need to get started." 

At Harry's request, the senior staff was meeting privately before the now regular morning meeting. Lyssa Campbell, Joe Carey, and Samantha Wildman had also been included. 

"I just had a visit from Chakotay that I wish I could share," the Doctor announced as he arrived. "Unfortunately, my ethical subroutines won't permit me to breach confidentiality." 

"What can you say?" 

"That we have made progress, but have not achieved success." 

"Lyssa, why don't you share what you overheard last night," Harry suggested. 

Ensign Campbell repeated what had transpired between the captain and commander on the dance floor. Everyone was silent when she finished. Tom wiped his sleeve across damp eyes, and even B'Elanna didn't offer a comment. 

Neelix finally broke the silence. "Is this protocol really that important to Starfleet? I've studied the Prime Directive, and I understand its purpose thoroughly. Yet even that, the Federation's most sacred law, has room for interpretation. Surely Starfleet would make an exception in the case of a lesser rule if there was good reason." 

"I believe that it would," Harry answered. "But Captain Janeway is afraid to take a chance." 

The truth behind the whole situation struck B'Elanna full force. "Because of the Maquis. She hasn't been afraid to bend the Prime Directive, but then it's only her neck on the line. She's worried about us." 

The half-Klingon engineer slumped back in her seat, emanating misery. "She's denying herself happiness because she's worried about her ability to protect us from prosecution when we get home. Well, you know what? I can't accept that. I'd gladly risk time in a rehabilitation colony, but I won't be the reason they can't be together." 

No one else spoke. It wasn't their place to agree or disagree. There were no other former Maquis present. Tom had already served time for his very brief stint on Chakotay's ship, and had been aboard Voyager as a Starfleet advisor, and therefore been more or less a part of the Starfleet crew. 

Rarely did anyone on Voyager even think about the Maquis situation anymore. They were one crew, and it had been years since they had felt otherwise. Officially commissioned or not, they all thought of themselves as Starfleet now. That a quarter of the crew could be arrested upon returning to Federation space was a fact that B'Elanna had almost forgotten. 

It hadn't crossed her mind before that the Maquis situation still had any significant effect on life in the Delta Quadrant. 

"Let's go start the meeting," Tom said at last. "We'll find a way to deal with this."

  


Janeway awoke to find Chakotay already gone. She showered, dressed and headed for the bridge. She found the first officer reading a stack of reports on the command deck. 

"Good morning, Captain," he greeted cheerfully. "I hope you slept well." 

"Very well, thank you. And you?" 

"Well enough," he lied. 

The captain turned to her operations officer. "And how about you, Mister Kim? Did you manage to outlast the Doctor and Seven last night?" 

"No, Captain. Ensign Campbell and I decided that was a lost cause." 

Tom Paris turned from the helm. "Has anyone seen the Doctor or Seven yet this morning? Or are they still on the holodeck?" 

Chakotay shifted uncomfortably, wondering if Tom had seen him leave sickbay. No, he decided, the pilot's joke was at the Doctor's expense. He glanced at the captain, and caught her smiling at him. He returned the smile, then looked down at his console.

  


For the first time in days, Janeway wasn't even bothering to feel guilty about where she had slept. She hadn't had a nightmare since the night of the bonfire, and she rather enjoyed the feeling of being well rested. Besides, with the way Chakotay had taken to making the bed with two sets of sheets, there was little danger of accidental contact. She smiled again. Was it her he did not trust, or himself? 

If only I weren't the captain, she thought, not for the first time. If I were still a science officer... She shot an envious glance at Ensign Wildman. Irrational, she realized instantly. Samantha was more then thirty thousand light years from the man she loved. She didn't get to sit beside him on the bridge every day. She couldn't share a laugh with him, or turn to him for support. 

A wave of guilt washed over her. Guilt for failing to be grateful for what she had; guilt for daring to want more despite Starfleet protocol; and guilt for her part in stranding Samantha Wildman so far from her husband. She owed this crew a way home, and that meant she had to be the captain, without distractions. She rose from her chair and marched into the ready room, leaving Chakotay with the bridge.

  


He watched her go, for once baffled. He had seen something resembling anger in her eyes, and something else as well. Pain, perhaps? He considered following her, but was unsure as to the cause of her sudden change of mood. He decided to give her some time alone; she'd call if she needed him, he hoped, and if she didn't, he'd question her over lunch.

  


B'Elanna was in her office. She used it so rarely that it almost felt like unfamiliar territory to her. As chief engineer, she preferred the hands on approach to sitting behind a desk. 

Lieutenant Chell entered hesitantly. "You wanted to see me, Chief?" 

"Relax. Have a seat. I have a question for you." 

"Yes?" 

"Have you given any thought to the fate of the Maquis crew once we reach Federation space?" 

He eyed her suspiciously. "Not really." 

"What if I told you that the captain is holding back from a relationship with Chakotay because she fears it will hurt her ability to keep us out of prison when we get home?" 

Understanding dawned on his blue face. "I wouldn't want her to make that sacrifice for us; she's already done so much for this crew. I'm not afraid to face the consequences of my own actions." 

"That's what I thought," B'Elanna said. "Everyone I've talked to has said the same thing. Now how do we tell the captain?"

  


Janeway slumped at her desk and stared at the engineering report with unfocused eyes. Five minutes ago she had been in a good mood. What had changed? 

The fact that she couldn't make love to her first officer was hardly new, nor was her desire to do so. Was she just angry at herself for thinking about it on the bridge? That must be it. She needed a distraction. 

Engineering, she decided. She'd go lend a hand on one of B'Elanna's many projects. She strode purposefully out of the ready room and headed for the turbolift. 

Chakotay stared after her with concern, completely missing the panicked glance exchanged by Harry and Tom. He thought again about following her, and again decided to wait until lunch.

  


"Good morning, Captain!" 

B'Elanna heard Joe's louder then necessary greeting and abruptly broke off her discussion with Garan. Really could have used a warning, Tom, really would have been quite helpful. Had she been overheard? She turned to face the captain. 

"I thought you might need an extra set of hands," Janeway explained. "I must admit things are a little dull on the bridge." 

The engineer tried not to show visible signs of relief as she responded. "Certainly, Captain. Did you have anything specific in mind?"

  


When lunchtime came and went with no sign of the captain, Chakotay turned the bridge over to Tom and set off to look for her. He could have just asked the computer for her location, of course, but he wasn't quite willing to admit his purpose. 

In sickbay, he found Tuvok drilling the Doctor on Federation law. Tal Celes was alone in astrometrics. Neelix was unaccompanied in the mess hall. Naomi Wildman was using holodeck one; the other was unoccupied. Ensign Campbell sat alone in the transporter room, deeply engrossed in a medical text. 

Chakotay avoided stellar cartography; the captain wouldn't be there and he certainly didn't want to encourage Megan Delaney by passing through her territory without a valid reason. 

Eventually, the only places left that he could check without being obvious were engineering and deck fifteen. Since the captain had probably visited the latter less then three times in the last six years, he decided on the former. 

B'Elanna saw Chakotay stroll into engineering. She tried to pretend that she didn't realize he was looking for the captain, but he wasn't making it easy. And he looked worried. 

"She's in Jefferies tube eleven." 

"What?" His puzzled look was unconvincing. 

"The captain. She's in Jefferies tube eleven." 

It crossed his mind that perhaps he should make an excuse. He didn't bother. "Thanks."

  


Spending the morning in engineering had been a pleasant change of pace. She had now been enjoying the solitude of this particular Jefferies tube for about half an hour, and its charm had started to wear thin. Hunger was just beginning to intrude on her thoughts. 

"Captain?" 

She jumped at the sound of his voice, and extracted herself from an access panel to discover Chakotay crawling towards her. 

"I thought you might like some lunch," he offered by way of explanation. 

If she was really trying to avoid him, then why was she so darn glad to see him? She put down the hyperspanner she had been using and smiled at him. "I certainly would." 

Relief flitted across his face. Had he been expecting her to turn down his offer? She felt a wave of remorse for having worried him. 

He handed her a cup of coffee and watched her close her eyes to taste it. One of these days, that would be his undoing. There was nothing quite like the sight of Kathryn Janeway taking a sip of coffee. 

She put down her mug and looked up to find him studying her face intently. Concerned that he might have spent an uncomfortable morning rethinking his every action of the previous night, she moved to reassure him. 

He felt an electric charge as she placed her hand on his arm. So much of his mental energy was devoted to hiding his response that he almost missed what she said. 

"I've heard some interesting gossip about what goes on in these Jefferies tubes." 

Was she flirting with him? His pulse raced as he stared at her in amazement. He had to respond. What did she expect him to say? Where was the line, now, exactly? 

She'd managed to shock him, she realized as she watched him fish for a response. Should she put him out of his misery, or would that just make it worse? 

"You'd have to ask Tom Paris about that," he managed. "I wouldn't know." 

The temptation to provide a demonstration almost overwhelmed her. Could she not trust herself to be alone with him anymore? At that chilling thought she managed to pull herself together. "So what's for lunch?" 

They sat and ate. Chakotay repeated a story that Tom had shared on the bridge. It interested them not at all, but it did fill the silence as they worked to overcome the unfamiliar tension between them. 

If the source of their discomfort had been anything but what it was, they could have discussed it. They weren't usually shy about sharing their opinions. Even a serious disagreement could be ironed out with words. 

Yet this could not be acknowledged, not with the only solution thirty thousand light years away. Their eyes met and they shared a melancholy smile at the absurdity of it all. 

"Are we okay?" Chakotay asked at last, his voice so low she could barely hear him. 

She didn't know the answer, not really. She reached for his hand, lacing her fingers through his. "We have to be," she told him softly. 

He met her gaze steadily. "Yes, we do."

  


Tom Paris almost never sat in the command chair, and it was not a duty he particularly missed. Although he was technically fourth in the chain of command, he rarely found himself left with the bridge when it was quiet. Unlike Harry, he wasn't self-sacrificing enough to volunteer for gamma shift. 

I the midst of crisis, Tom rarely left the helm even when he was in command. Unless, of course, it was to pilot the Delta Flyer on some foolhardy mission to rescue whichever one of the other senior officers was missing in the first place. 

Now he sat and wondered how the captain did it. Day after day spent sitting on the command deck was not his idea of a fulfilling life; the ship felt so much more vital and alive from the helm. At least the captain had something to do while she was in command; B'Elanna, Harry, Tuvok, and Seven provided her with a generous supply of boring reports to read. 

"Did anyone happen to hear Chakotay mention whether or not he was planning to return today?" Tom shifted restlessly and glared, rather unfairly, at Jenkins. He really wanted his seat back. 

"He didn't say," Harry answered. "But I wouldn't count on seeing him for the rest of the shift." 

Tom turned to look at Harry. "Did I miss something?" 

"Maybe I'm wrong, but I'm guessing that he went looking for the captain." Harry looked around at the rest of the bridge crew. "Anyone else have an opinion?" 

"He was definitely looking for her," Samantha confirmed. "I was surprised that he held out as long as he did." 

There was a moment of charged silence as everyone waited for Tom to break his own rule. 

"Computer, locate Captain Janeway." 

"Captain Janeway is in Jefferies tube eleven." 

Tom took a deep breath. "Computer, locate Chakotay." 

"Commander Chakotay is in Jefferies tube eleven." 

"Dare we hope?" Sam whispered. 

"We'll have to wait and see."

  


"It seems we have two options for the evening," Chakotay announced over dinner. 

"Oh?" 

"Neelix has scheduled a kal-toh tournament and Tom has invited us to watch television in B'Elanna's quarters." 

"Kal-toh? There are what, three, maybe four, crew members who can even play that game. And it certainly isn't a spectator sport. I think he'd have better luck with a kadis-kot tournament. Or even a derada tournament, for that matter." 

Chakotay nodded. "So I guess we'll go to B'Elanna's. Unless you'd rather spend five or six hours watching Tuvok beat Harry and Vorik at kal-toh." 

"As tempting as that is, I think I'd rather watch Tom's television."

  


"Why do I have to do it?" Harry was glaring at Tom. He didn't actually mind, but he wasn't letting his friend off the hook that easily. 

"Because you and Vorik are the only ones who know how to play that stupid Vulcan game. It will distract Tuvok, and couldn't possibly interest the captain." 

"I'm not convinced that Tuvok needs distracting." 

"If he doesn't have plans, the captain will drag him along and we won't get anything accomplished. We need you to keep him busy." 

"And you get to lounge around watching television? I just don't see how that's fair at all." He turned to B'Elanna as she entered. "And what do you think of this plan, Maquis?" 

"Suck it up, Starfleet. Maybe you can actually beat Tuvok this time."

  


The mess hall was packed. Tuvok was puzzled. Never before had a kal-toh tournament been so well attended. He would have suspected gambling, but Tom Paris was nowhere in sight. Besides, he doubted anyone was illogical enough to bet against an undefeated player. 

Two hours later, Vorik was soundly defeated. Ensign Kim moved to take his place. The audience had not decreased in size, despite the fact that only Seven seemed to be following the play. 

The Vulcan security officer suspected he was being deliberately distracted. He mentally noted which crew members were not in attendance. Captain Janeway, Commander Chakotay, Lieutenants Paris and Torres, the gamma shift bridge crew, of course...

  


Tom and B'Elanna were busily rearranging the furniture in her quarters. They wanted to subtly force their guests to share the couch, but were unclear as to exactly what they were trying to accomplish. After the story Lyssa Campbell had repeated that morning, it seemed they were using the wrong strategy. 

B'Elanna set two bowls of replicated popcorn on the coffee table and sighed. There had to be a way that these two people, who were both so very dear to her, could be happy. She just had to find it. And if everything went perfectly tonight, perhaps she'd get the chance to do a little fact finding.

  


When they arrived at B'Elanna's quarters, Janeway and Chakotay were cheerfully greeted and shown to the couch. Tom made a great ceremony out of handing the captain a small device. 

"The remote control," he announced gravely. "In the late twentieth century it symbolized power within the household. The one who held the remote was the boss." 

"Then just what were you doing with it, Tom?" Janeway grinned at B'Elanna. They all shared a laugh at the helmsman's expense. 

Tom wasn't entirely satisfied with the seating arrangements. By his way of thinking, the captain and commander had far too much empty couch between them. Yet there wasn't much he could do to correct the situation. The pilot seated himself on the floor and pulled B'Elanna down to join him. 

"So, Captain, what shall we watch? A mystery, a comedy, an old sci-fi perhaps?" He smirked. "Maybe we can find a hockey game." 

B'Elanna rolled her eyes and glared at him. "No sports." 

"Athletics should be played, not watched," Chakotay pronounced. He winked at B'Elanna. "How about a comedy." 

They found suitable entertainment material. Both Tom and Janeway were soon absorbed in the program. Chakotay was much more interested in watching the captain, and B'Elanna sat studying Chakotay. 

In between programs, Tom got up to replicate some fresh drinks. Chakotay went with him, treating Kathryn to a warm smile as he left. 

"You're lucky," B'Elanna commented wistfully. "Yours doesn't get so absorbed in television that he forgets you're even in the same room. Sometimes I regret building that thing." 

Both women froze as B'Elanna realized just what she had implied. Neither could think of a safe response. To their relief, Tom and Chakotay chose that moment to appear with the beverages. 

Chakotay noticed Kathryn's momentary tension as he sat back down. B'Elanna looked a little too eager to take her drink from Tom as well. But whatever the cause, the moment passed and the four officers shared a pleasant evening.

  


Later, the captain and first officer reached her quarters and stood looking at each other. Kathryn's mind wandered back to the earlier comment. No, you're the lucky one, B'Elanna, she thought. You don't have to wait thirty years to tell yours how very much you love him. 

She couldn't trust herself to sleep beside him tonight, but she couldn't tell him that in so many words. Acknowledging the temptation would be almost as damaging as acting upon it. 

"I haven't had a nightmare in several days," she told him. "I've probably broken the cycle." 

"Call me if you need me. And I mean it." 

"I will," she said.

  


The room was brightly lit. Three Starfleet admirals, including Owen Paris, sat facing her. She was alone. She had always known it was her fate to face this alone. 

"Captain Kathryn Janeway, nine years ago you were ordered into the Cardassian demilitarized zone to apprehend the Maquis vessel known as the Liberty. Your orders were to arrest those on board and return to Deep Space Nine. You failed. 

"Instead of returning these fugitives to justice, you fled the region. You took the rebel leader as your lover, and made him your first officer. You named another criminal, B'Elanna Torres, as your chief engineer. 

"It is our belief that Lieutenant Tuvok was not working as a Federation agent on board the Maquis ship. If his true loyalty was to Starfleet, then surely he would not have allowed your actions to stand. 

"Furthermore, it is our belief that Tom Paris did not sever his ties to the Maquis following his arrest as he claims. He had been assigned by Commander Chakotay to secure a Starfleet vessel, your vessel, and bring it to the Badlands. He succeeded, probably with your aid. 

"All of the Maquis will stand trial for their crimes, as will you, Captain Janeway. You will all most likely spend the rest of your lives as prisoners. Chakotay and Torres will face charges on Cardassia as well. 

"Ensign Harry Kim, as the highest ranking surviving senior officer, should have taken command of Voyager as soon as your questionable loyalties became clear. He will face charges. So will Lieutenant Carey, Lieutenant Ayala, Ensign Wildman, and Ensign Campbell. There may be others at the close of this investigation. 

"As for the Borg drone you captured, it will be detained until a hearing can be scheduled to determine its fate. We believe that it may be possible to use it as a weapon against the Collective. 

"Mister Neelix is not a Federation citizen, and in fact we have only your highly questionable word to go by with regards as to whether or not his civilization had obtained warp technology prior to your contact with him. The matter will be investigated thoroughly before his fate is decided. 

"Your EMH will join its colleagues, which have proven very useful performing menial labor aboard waste management vessels." 

Janeway tried to speak; tried to argue as each injustice was announced. Was everyone she loved going to be punished for her failures? 

Tuvok, her oldest friend, had always been loyal to her and to Starfleet. Now, he was named a traitor and it was her fault. 

Tom had matured into the finest of officers. How could his own father send him back to prison? B'Elanna was the best engineer in Starfleet; they were going to waste her talents in a rehabilitation colony? No, they were going to turn her over to the Cardassians. 

Janeway had witnessed first hand how the Cardassians treated prisoners. The thought of what would happen to B'Elanna and Chakotay was unbearable. She began to shake violently. She had failed to protect them, and now they would die, slowly and painfully. 

Then there was Harry. Was his bright future gone because he had followed her orders? And hard working Joe Carey, sent to prison instead of reuniting with his wife and two children? Again, her fault. Wildman, Campbell, Ayala, Chell, Garan, Henley, and so many others from both crews, suffering for following her orders... 

The Doctor. He was a sentient being; one who had proven a valuable member of her crew and a good friend; they were going to turn him into a slave? She was powerless to prevent it. He had saved her life more times then she cared to count, but now she could do nothing for him. And Seven. What were they going to do to Seven? 

Unable to speak, unable to utter a single syllable in defense of those she loved, Kathryn Janeway put her face in her hands and cried.

  


Chakotay lay in bed and stared at the empty spot beside him. He missed her, but more importantly he hoped she was sleeping. As much as he wanted to sleep beside her every night, he knew it was better for everyone if her bout of insomnia was over. 

The mystery finally got to be too much. He stole into her quarters and crept to her bedside. She was talking in her sleep. He couldn't quite make out what she was saying, although he recognized Tuvok's name, then B'Elanna's, and finally his own. It was not a peaceful sleep. 

"Kathryn, wake up," he ordered. He placed a hand on her shoulder. "Kathryn." 

She sat up with a start, tried to shake off the disorientation of sleep, and found Chakotay looking at her. A dream, she realized, only a dream. For a moment, she fought to control her emotions. But the overwhelming sense of failure from her dream joined forces with her vivid memories of Cardassian torture, and she lost the battle. 

Kathryn Janeway was the strongest person he had ever known, and she always kept a tight rein on her emotions, even in the worst of times. So Chakotay was completely unprepared when she flung herself sobbing against his chest. She clung to his neck with such vigor that it hurt. 

Was this the same woman who had stood chin to chin with the Borg Queen and gave no quarter? At a loss for words, he held her tightly and waited for her to regain control. He wondered just how long it had been since she'd let go emotionally. Too long, he knew. He had often worried about how Kathryn's habit of bottling up her emotions might affect her in the long run. 

Still, despite the fact that he recognized her need for release, it hurt to see her in such obvious distress. He wished he knew the root of the problem. Even her other nightmares hadn't had this effect. What could be causing her such misery? 

What had come over her, she thought in horror. She couldn't be crying like this. It was ridiculously undignified and completely unnecessary. Starfleet captains did not fall apart in the arms of their first officers. She struggled for composure. 

"Kathryn, it's okay," he whispered. 

"I know it is," she replied hoarsely. "I'm being silly. It was just a dream." She loosened her grip on his neck. 

"That's not what I meant." He made no move to release her. "It's okay to let go sometimes. I do. Tears are very healthy, Kathryn. Go ahead and cry. I won't tell a soul." 

While some part of her felt obligated to argue, she didn't make the effort. She concentrated instead on regulating her breathing. 

They were both silent for a while. 

"Tell me about it," he suggested cautiously. 

She drew back to look at him, and for once allowed herself to see only her friend, and not her second in command. To her own great surprise, the need to talk overpowered her perceived duty to maintain protocol. 

"We were home. And it was terrible. We were all court martialled. I couldn't protect anyone. It seemed so real, so vivid, even though it seems really far fetched now. 

"Starfleet wanted to turn you and B'Elanna over to the Cardassians. They called Tuvok, Harry, and Tom traitors. The Doctor was being treated like a slave. And they had horrible plans for Seven." 

He listened carefully. As chilling as those pronouncements sounded, he knew that the unrealistic dream was not the true source of her distress. The nightmare had to be symbolic of something much more real. Something was troubling her deeply; something her subconscious wouldn't show her clearly. 

"What was the worst part?" 

She thought for a moment. "The helplessness. I couldn't protect my crew." 

"Why not?" 

"I couldn't talk. Admiral Paris just kept handing down these horrible injustices and I couldn't argue." 

"Why Admiral Paris, I wonder?" He wanted to ask why she couldn't argue, but he suddenly feared that the answer was something she couldn't say out loud. Certainly not right now. Not with him sitting on her bed in the dark, still holding her. And he had no interest in leaving her to face her demons alone. 

"You're right," she said. "I bet that means something. I know Owen Paris well enough to know he'd never be so unreasonable. And he certainly wouldn't subject anyone to Cardassian treatment." 

He made an effort to sound matter of fact. "So, are we staying here or in my quarters?" 

His question echoed her thoughts. Since her experiment had failed, proving that she couldn't sleep restfully alone, she was guiltily willing to continue their arrangement. His quarters, with the two sets of sheets, were safer. But they were here already, and she didn't want to brave the corridors with her tear-stained face. 

"Do you have your combadge?" 

"Yes." 

She made her decision. "Then stay."

  


### Day Thirteen

"So," Tom asked without enthusiasm. "How was the kal-toh tournament?" 

"Tuvok won," Harry replied, equally unenthusiastic. 

"Tell us something we didn't already know," B'Elanna mumbled. She put her head down on the table. 

The Doctor looked at her in concern. "Did you sleep last night, Lieutenant?" 

"No." Her voice was muffled. She didn't bother to raise her head. 

Seven entered the holographic briefing room. "I'd suggest running a program of a more recreational nature. Tuvok is headed this way." 

"Computer, end program." Tom suddenly found himself seated on the floor. Harry, B'Elanna, and the Doctor, similarly displaced, glared at him. 

"Some warning, next time?" Harry grumbled, climbing to his feet. He offered the clearly exhausted B'Elanna a hand up. 

Tom activated Sandrine's. Tuvok entered a moment later. "Is it not a little early in the morning for a pool tournament, Mister Paris?" 

"Aw, come on, Tuvok. It's never too early for a pool tournament. Why don't you challenge Harry to a game? Give him a chance to regain his dignity after last night." 

"I fail to see what that would accomplish. Mister Kim is well acquainted with defeat when it comes to kal-toh. Regardless of the outcome, a game of pool will hardly alter that fact." 

"Maybe not," Lyssa admitted as she joined them. "But what harm could it do to humor him, Commander?" 

Megan Delaney appeared. "Spare my sister the humiliation of playing and I'll consider it a personal favor, Tuvok." She winked at him. 

The Vulcan shifted uncomfortably. He conceded. "Very well. One game."

  


Janeway was actually momentarily disoriented by the novelty of waking up in her own bed. Chakotay was still asleep. She pushed the if only from her mind and headed for the sonic shower. 

Her eyes were puffy from crying, and she squirmed with embarrassment at the previous night's memories. Not since her father's death had her emotions been so out of control. How was it that a dream could provoke such a strong reaction from her? Maybe that was the explanation; she hadn't yet been awake enough to be in control. 

The thought of Chakotay and B'Elanna in the hands of the Cardassians made her shudder, but it was hardly a realistic concern. Starfleet would never turn any Federation citizen over to another government. It just wasn't done. 

And as far as the Cardassians were concerned, the Maquis were all dead. After all, they had murdered over four thousand Maquis on Tevlik; surely they couldn't think there were any left. 

The most that the Maquis on Voyager might face was prison time, and as long as she kept from being court martialled herself, she could probably prevent that. 

The rest of the dream had been so far fetched that it was laughable in the morning light. So why had it troubled her so deeply?

  


Chakotay was relieved when Kathryn headed for the shower. He had been lying awake all night, trying to find a way to reconcile Starfleet protocol with life as it was on Voyager. The circumstances were just too cruel as things stood. 

How could Kathryn be expected to put her personal life on hold and maintain the distance of command for so many years? Yet she felt guilty for even having feelings; that was what her dream was about. She was punishing herself for caring about her crew. 

Return to Federation space, be it tomorrow or in thirty years, could be a mixed blessing for members of the Voyager crew. For most of the original crew, homecoming would be a joyous occasion. Tuvok had a wife and five children waiting on Vulcan. Samantha Wildman had a husband on Deep Space Nine. Carey had a wife and two children on Earth. Ayala mentioned his sons almost daily. 

But for others, himself included, there could be complications. The former Maquis could very well face charges, and he'd be fooling himself if he thought that his relationship with the captain wouldn't come under scrutiny if that were the case. 

Yet Kathryn's loneliness and unjust guilt were painful to watch, and his own desire was no small factor either. He didn't want to wait thirty years or more for the woman he loved. He wanted the freedom to tell her that he loved her, to offer her comfort in the hard times, to just be honest with her and himself. He was tired of living a lie of omission; tired of guarding every emotion he felt; tired of carefully editing every word he spoke. 

If only they could see into the future just enough to know how long they'd be in this quadrant, and to learn the fate of the former Maquis. Of course, any view of the future was merely a glimpse at a possible future, so - . 

She emerged from the bathroom, interrupting his thoughts. She smiled at him, but the expression failed to reach her eyes. "I'd suggest getting dressed if you're planning on taking me to breakfast." 

He didn't have any answers yet, so he merely provided the light response that he knew she expected of him. "Aye, Captain."

  


Tuvok patiently tolerated Tom's teasing and Megan's flirting as he played pool with Ensign Kim. Everyone was behaving as if Sandrine's was the most natural place to be an hour before going on duty. The holodeck was slowly filling up with additional crew members. Neelix even seemed to be serving some sort of breakfast pastry. 

During his first tenure with Starfleet, Tuvok had often been puzzled by human behavior. Yet he'd learned a great deal since then, and he knew when things didn't add up. 

Tom Paris was not an early riser. B'Elanna Torres was rarely sociable first thing in the morning. Neelix did not leave the mess hall during the breakfast hour. Yet they were all here. Boylan and White were notorious for chronic lateness. If they routinely failed to rouse themselves from slumber in order to make their duty shifts on time, how was it that they were awake early just to watch a supposedly impromptu pool tournament? 

Harry Kim won the game, and Tuvok left with no answers, only more questions.

  


B'Elanna had admitted her slip of the tongue to Tom, and he hadn't even teased her about it. Somehow that fact bothered her. She tried not to dwell on it as they all waited for Tuvok to leave. Once he did, the meeting quickly came to order around the pool table. 

"This is what we're up against," Tom said. "The captain has all but admitted her feelings for Chakotay, but they think they need to wait until we reach the Alpha Quadrant." 

There were murmurs of sympathy. A majority of those present knew that already; B'Elanna had spent most of the previous day talking to the former Maquis and word had spread with its usual efficiency. 

"How do we convince her not to put her life on hold for us?" B'Elanna asked the room at large. 

"I thought you two were supposed to talk to them last night," Harry said. "Wasn't that why I had to play kal-toh with Tuvok for nearly three hours?" 

"Don't complain, Ensign," the Doctor said. "Don't forget that some of us had to watch you play kal-toh with Tuvok for nearly three hours. And don't forget that he played Vorik first." 

"We were hoping for the chance to say something last night," Tom said. "But Torres here slipped up." 

Everyone tensed, expecting the usually hot headed half-Klingon to defend herself. 

She didn't. "I wasn't thinking. I just hope I didn't do too much damage." Then she provided a demonstration of her frustration.

  


Janeway and Chakotay breakfasted in an empty mess hall, then hurried to the bridge. They were barely on time, and were shocked to find that they'd beaten Harry, Tom, Sam, and even Tuvok. They exchanged a look. 

"Computer, locate Tuvok." 

"Lieutenant Commander Tuvok is in holodeck one." 

"Computer, locate Harry Kim." 

"Ensign Kim is in holodeck one." 

"Computer, how many crew members are in holodeck one?" 

"Eighty eight." 

Captain and first officer stood looking at each other. 

"I think I'm going to go investigate our little mystery myself," Janeway decided. "Commander, you have the bridge."

  


The gamma shift bridge crew sucked in its collective breath. They were all well aware of Tom Paris' recent exploits. 

Lieutenant Ayala shifted uncomfortably in the captain's chair, wishing that the first officer would either officially claim the bridge or leave it. 

He was powerless to warn those on the holodeck of the captain's approach with Chakotay on the bridge. Yet if Tuvok was already down there it was probably too late anyhow.

  


Janeway hurried back onto the turbolift. "Deck fourteen." Did the lift seem slower then usual? Too bad a site to site transport would give her away. The turbolift stopped, and she raced towards the holodeck. 

She checked to see what program was running. Paris three. Sandrine's. Had it been left on since the previous night, perhaps? No, in fact, another program had been running very recently. She entered the holodeck, arriving just in time to see B'Elanna snap a holographic pool cue in half. 

"Captain!" 

All heads snapped in her direction. 

"Shouldn't you all be on duty?" the captain asked casually. "Commander Chakotay seems to be short one bridge crew." She studied the crowd. "And where's Tuvok?" 

"You just missed him, Captain," the Doctor replied. "After last evening's crushing defeat, Mister Kim felt the need to win back his dignity with a friendly game of pool." 

"I see," Janeway answered patiently. They were definitely up to something. "Now, could you all please report for duty? I don't wish to spend my morning recording your late arrivals in your personnel files." 

With a flurry of salutes and apologies, the crew scurried out of the room. Was it her imagination, or were several crew members making a deliberate effort to stay between her and Lieutenant Torres? 

"Computer, end program. Resume previous program." 

The captain watched the scene shift around her, baffled. What could they possibly be doing? She returned to the bridge.

  


Chakotay sat on the command deck and watched the belated shift change without comment. When the captain returned, he stood and followed her into the ready room. 

"So what were they doing?" 

"They appeared to be playing pool." 

He met her gaze. "What do you mean?" 

"I checked with the computer. It seems Seven arrived on the holodeck just two minutes ahead of Tuvok. During those two minutes, Tom ended one program and began another: Sandrine's." The captain paced around the ready room. "Then, as I understand it, Harry challenged Tuvok to a game of pool. I don't know what transpired between that and my arrival, but B'Elanna was noticeably upset. Vorik and Chell both nearly sprained something trying to shield her from me." 

"What was the first program?" 

"That's what makes the least sense. It was the briefing room. Every morning for over a week, they've gathered in there, and the only program they've run is a simulation of Voyager's briefing room. They weren't even running a program when Tuvok first brought the matter to my attention." 

"So they are holding some sort of meeting. I'll look into it." 

"Why do we even have a holographic simulation of the briefing room?" Janeway wondered aloud. 

"I don't think you really want the answer to that," Chakotay replied. 

She looked at him in surprise. "You've got to be kidding."

  


The alpha shift began painfully slowly. Janeway spent the morning sitting in her command chair, watching Tom's efforts to not squirm under her scrutiny. Both Chakotay and Tuvok roamed around the ship, conducting their own informal investigations and making the junior officers tremendously nervous. 

The chief engineer only managed to avoid the tactical officer by climbing into a Jefferies tube. Distracted as she was, her first attempt to do something useful while in hiding resulted in personal injury. Swearing in Klingon, Torres grabbed her hand to stop the bleeding and called for a site to site transport. 

B'Elanna was immediately sorry when she materialized in sickbay, coming face to face with Chakotay. The Doctor, on the other hand, had never been so delighted to see an injured crew member. Barely concealing his enthusiasm, he reached for a dermal regenerator and set about repairing the damage. 

Chakotay stood and waited patiently. He had managed to get precious little information from the Doctor, who had attempted to chase him off with questions about his recent dreams. But from the look on B'Elanna's face, he anticipated more success with her. 

The Doctor appeared to be finished. Ordinarily, Lieutenant Torres wouldn't have been able to get out of sickbay fast enough. Yet she sensed that Chakotay would follow her, and so she let the ordinarily efficient doctor linger over his task, lecturing about safety and questioning her about her health in general. 

The first officer finally began to lose patience with the charade. "B'Elanna, why don't we get lunch. We haven't sat down and talked lately." 

She was trapped and knew it. They left for the mess hall together.

  


"Sickbay to Neelix." The morale officer jumped at the sound. He had been nervously watching Commander Tuvok attempt to make small talk with Megan Delaney. The novelty would have amused him, under different circumstances. 

Neelix tapped his combadge. "Doctor, could this wait? I'm right in the middle of the lunch rush." 

"I am well aware of that, Mister Neelix, but there is a matter which requires your attention." 

"I'm sorry, Doctor, but today's lunch very much requires my attention. I will contact you shortly."

  


Tuvok continued his discussion with Crewman Delaney, carefully concealing the fact that his concentration was now elsewhere. 

His eyebrow nearly rose of its own accord when Commander Chakotay arrived, escorting a rather uncomfortable Lieutenant Torres. Had the Doctor been attempting to warn Neelix of the first officer's approach? Tuvok looked at the Talaxian, who was now, despite the cheerful greeting he gave the new arrivals, showing visible signs of stress.

  


When the first officer and chief engineer arrived in the mess hall, Neelix realized why the Doctor had contacted him. If not for Tuvok's presence, he would have gone to B'Elanna's aid. Unfortunately, he was helpless to do so as long as the Vulcan remained.

  


His failure to warn Neelix of Chakotay's approach worried the Doctor. It occurred to him that either Tuvok or the captain must already be in the mess hall, and despite the great resourcefulness for which B'Elanna was known, this time she needed a rescue. 

The Doctor tried another approach. "Sickbay to engineering." 

"Lieutenant Carey here, Doctor." 

"B'Elanna's in the mess hall with Chakotay and Tuvok." 

Nothing more needed to be said. Joe, Vorik, and Garan stood staring at each other. They needed an engineering crisis, and quickly. 

"We could eject the core," Vorik suggested neutrally.

  


Janeway was just starting to wonder what had become of Chakotay when she felt the ship drop out of warp. She was out of her chair and standing behind Tom almost instantaneously. 

The helmsman barely had time to look for an explanation when Lieutenant Carey's voice was heard. "Engineering to Bridge." 

"What happened, Lieutenant?" Janeway asked, her hand on Tom's shoulder. 

He answered her unspoken question first. "No casualties, Captain. It might be a problem with some EPS relays. We're on it." 

"Very well, Mister Carey." The guarded relief in the captain's voice was audible to those who knew her well. 

Tom made no attempt to conceal his feelings. He wasn't good at it and no one expected him to try. For once, they weren't in the midst of crisis and he could afford to feel relief. 

Harry had felt the same momentary fear as the rest of the bridge crew, but was immediately distracted as he realized that engineering had suffered no accident. Someone had deliberately taken the warp core offline, and was now attempting to conceal it. 

His duty was to bring this information to the captain's attention immediately; if there was an intruder on board any delay could cost lives. He pushed his other suspicions aside and was about to speak when Ensign Campbell rocketed out of the turbolift. 

She said nothing, but the look in her eye spoke volumes. Harry didn't report his findings to the captain, and instead turned his attention to hiding them.

  


The captain and first officer sat down for dinner. They hadn't had a chance to speak privately all day, and were relieved to finally be alone together. 

"I'm not happy about what happened in engineering today," Janeway said. "Vorik doesn't make mistakes, even under pressure. I can't imagine how it happened." 

"I have to be honest," Chakotay admitted. "I'm starting to worry. Everyone's been acting just a little off lately." 

She nodded her agreement. "Ensign Campbell bolted onto the bridge earlier as if the hounds of hell were after her, then disappeared again with scarcely a word." 

"Tuvok was having lunch with Megan Delaney." 

She met his gaze. This might indeed be serious. "If you tell me she was playing kal-toh I'll sound the intruder alert now." 

The corners of his lips twitched but he knew she wasn't entirely kidding. "B'Elanna cut her hand opening an access panel in the Jefferies tubes. The wound was severe enough that she had herself beamed to sickbay." 

She gasped. That was a task that even Naomi Wildman should have been able to handle blindfolded, and B'Elanna usually had to be half dead before she'd go have an injury treated while on duty. 

Chakotay cringed at what he was about to say. But the ship came first, and they couldn't ignore a potential clue in the face of danger. "Even you and I have been a bit impulsive the last couple of days." 

She blushed at his mention of their near accident on the dance floor, but understood why he had mentioned it. Perhaps even her recent dreams meant something, if the crew was under some alien influence. 

They glanced at each other in mutual discomfort, briefly afraid that the acknowledgement of the near kiss might come between them. She reached across the table and touched his arm. He returned her wordless reassurance with a soft smile. 

"If something is going on, when did it start?" She answered her own question. "When we entered this...void. Which is why I chalked it up to boredom, but what if it's more?" 

He agreed with her concern. "So far, no harm done. But this might warrant investigation." 

Janeway stood to fetch a padd. "Let's make a list. What was the first oddity you noticed?" 

Chakotay thought hard. "Neelix seemed a little nervous when he approached me about the first movie night. At the time, I thought he was just concerned that you wouldn't make an appearance, and yet was reluctant to push. I'm still not convinced that wasn't the case." 

"He had reason to worry. He remembers our last pass through quiet space. Besides, I hadn't slept the night before. I might not have gone." 

"I'm glad you did," he said, then scolded himself and changed his tone promptly. "So Neelix's nervousness was probably just that." 

"Possibly. Although he has been jumpy ever since. I'd hardly put it in my logs, but since this is just between us, I don't want to discount it yet." 

"The sensors malfunctioned the next day, however briefly. That was just after you left the bridge for astrometrics." 

She nodded. "I saw that in B'Elanna's report. They were running a simulation using the new secondary sensors, and accidentally sent their findings to the ops station on the bridge." 

"How often do we have a rash of careless errors in engineering?" 

"Not often. I still haven't figured out how the doors to astrometrics were mistakenly sealed. And Seven's combadge apparently malfunctioned at the same time." 

"Nothing really serious, until today. Do you think it's escalating?" 

"I certainly hope not. Although it isn't outside the realm of possibility. Or it could be the fact that we're traveling at warp nine while attempting a partial refit." 

"I'll talk to B'Elanna. Maybe she's been pushing a bit too hard." 

"That wouldn't be surprising. She's been known to do that. Then again, I haven't heard any complaints lately." 

Chakotay looked thoughtful. "I haven't heard any complaints at all from anyone lately, which is odd in itself. As for B'Elanna, I tried to talk to her this afternoon. We had just sat down in the mess hall when the ship dropped out of warp. She dashed off to engineering and I haven't seen her since." 

"This was after she cut her hand?" 

Chakotay nodded. "I met up with her in sickbay, and she wasn't thrilled to see me. She looked trapped when I asked her to lunch and I think she was relieved to escape." 

"She was certainly anxious to stay out of my way this morning." 

"Last night, she invited us to her quarters, and we all shared a pleasant evening. Today, she's avoiding us both? That doesn't make sense." 

"I'd think this was about her slip of the tongue last night," Janeway said, half to herself. "But then why were Vorik and Chell so eager to protect her? She wouldn't have told them. And it wouldn't explain why she was avoiding you." 

"Slip of the tongue?" 

She shifted uncomfortably. "She was making a joke at Tom's expense, but the way she phrased it implied that you and I..." 

He nodded his understanding as she let her words trail off. After his discussion with the Doctor, there was little doubt in his mind that B'Elanna, who happened to be his oldest friend, knew exactly how he felt about Kathryn. Tom probably knew of his feelings as well. But they couldn't think that something was going on, could they? 

"Well, we have been spending a lot of time together lately," he said. "In fact, I believe I promised Neelix that we'd attend tonight's event. I think we can continue this investigation in the morning." 

She made no comment about the fact that Neelix assumed that Chakotay spoke for her in such matters. After all, it would seem that he was right. "Agreed."

  


"Welcome to the Mos Eisley cantina, Captain." Tom gestured to the scene around them. "You will not find a more wretched hive of scum and villainy." 

"Another twentieth century film?" Janeway asked. 

"Star Wars," Harry said. "It's about a group of rebels fighting for freedom from an oppressive and evil galactic empire." 

"Well, it will be when I'm finished," Tom said. "For now, it's just a bar." 

"An interesting bar." Chakotay looked around. A wide variety of creatures were engaged in various arguments around the room. An exceptionally unusual band was playing some oddly cheerful music. 

The humanoid bartender leered at the captain, causing Chakotay to move closer to her without even realizing it. 

Janeway didn't notice either, but Lyssa Campbell, just entering the holodeck, couldn't help but smile at the first officer's instinctive protectiveness. 

Harry returned her grin. "What's so funny?" 

She gestured to the scene around her. "What isn't?" 

"Curious. I am unfamiliar with a number of these species," Seven said as she arrived. "Am I to assume that they are fictitious?" 

Tom nodded. "Twentieth century science fiction was often criticized for portraying so many alien species as humanoid. The film responsible for these species was intended to avoid those criticisms." 

"They have failed to account for the interference of the Preservers." 

"These creatures were imagined four hundred years before the discovery of the Preservers. In fact, the movie was made almost a hundred years before first contact with the Vulcans. Besides, it's supposed to be another galaxy altogether." 

When Tom and Seven started debating the likely evolutionary conditions necessary to create the various fictitious species, the others left them and found a table.

  


Harry and Lyssa exchanged a nervous glance as they found themselves alone with the captain and commander. Janeway noticed the look, and was puzzled by it. She didn't spend much time with Ensign Campbell, but Harry certainly had no reason to be nervous. 

"Harry, you should have brought your clarinet." Chakotay nodded in the direction of the band. 

"I'm sure you would have fit right in." Lyssa's teasing earned a groan from her companion. 

"Don't I already take enough abuse from Tom?" 

"Not to mention me, Starfleet." B'Elanna slid into a seat. The engineer was far more nervous than Harry or Lyssa, but she wasn't letting it show. "Good evening, Captain. What do you think of Tom's handiwork?" 

"I'm starting to wonder how he ever has time to report for duty. This must have taken hours." 

"He had plenty of help this time. He's managed to get dozens of people involved. They're creating a full length holonovel from one of the old films he found in the database." 

Janeway and Chakotay exchanged a look. Did that explain, or partially explain, the morning meetings in the holodeck, or was it a cover story? Or did it have nothing to do with anything whatsoever? 

Harry saw the look and cringed. The command team was suspicious of something, that much was clear. He wished Tom would stop arguing with Seven and come sit down. They needed to get on with the evening's plan before the opportunity was lost. 

"Let's fetch these lovely ladies some drinks, shall we?" Chakotay stood, looking from Harry to the captain. "What would you like, Kathryn?" 

"Surprise me." She flashed him a grin. 

Chakotay turned to B'Elanna, who only shrugged. The two men disappeared, leaving Lyssa alone with the captain and chief engineer. The poor transporter chief hadn't felt so abandoned since she had found herself alone in sickbay with a pair of wounded and time displaced Romulans. 

"So, Captain, are you planning on playing in the tennis tournament?" Lyssa asked. "I was hoping to talk Harry into playing doubles with me." 

"I might. Although I'll warn you now, I was pretty good in my Academy days." 

"Chakotay played tennis at the Academy as well," B'Elanna said, although there was no doubt in her mind that the captain already possessed that information. "Perhaps you could convince him to partner with you, Captain." 

"I might just do that. Then we could get Harry and Lyssa back for beating us the other night." 

"I still think that Seven and the Doctor had an unfair advantage," Lyssa said. "She barely needs sleep and he doesn't need any." 

The word 'someday' was suddenly flitting about in her head, trying to find a way to escape and cause embarrassment. The ensign recalled an incident from her childhood. When introduced to a friend of her father's, she had been so intent upon pretending to not notice his baldness that she had called him Mister Hairless rather than Mister Harris. 

Mercifully, Harry and Chakotay chose that moment to return, carrying what appeared to be Romulan ale. At Kathryn's raised eyebrow, Chakotay explained, "It's only synthehol." He chuckled. "The bartender assures me that it's a favorite on Coruscant." 

B'Elanna took a cautious sip as she threw Harry a worried glance. Tom wouldn't dare try to slip real alcohol to the captain, would he? "Tastes like Ferengi rum." She shot Lyssa a look that she hoped would be read as 'get me a tricorder, now.' 

Before the ensign could move, Janeway asked her a question about tennis. B'Elanna tried to remain calm as she turned around and looked for Tom. 

He, Seven, and now the Doctor were still embroiled in their ridiculous debate. She spotted Naomi Wildman, and beckoned to her. 

The little girl saw the serious look on B'Elanna's face and nodded imperceptibly. She then plastered on a grin and cheerfully greeted those at the captain's table. 

"Neelix hasn't made any more grub puffs, has he?" Chakotay looked around the room in mock terror. 

Those at the table shared a laugh. 

"I think we talked him out of making those again." Naomi rolled her eyes. "At least I hope we have." 

There was more laughter. Lyssa then steered the conversation back to tennis, and B'Elanna took the opportunity to whisper to Naomi. "I need you to go get a tricorder and bring it to me without anyone noticing." 

Naomi nodded and headed off without a word. A child was a useful thing on a starship, B'Elanna decided. She could name a dozen ensigns who would have questioned her request, or asked for clarification, before setting off on the errand. 

"This isn't half bad." The captain peered into her glass. She took another sip. "Not bad at all." 

"A little sweet for my tastes," Chakotay said. 

Janeway snorted. "This from the man who puts two sugars in his coffee." She shook her head sadly. "Two sugars. Imagine doing that to a perfectly good cup of coffee. I'll tell you a secret, though. I usually only give him one." 

"That's not a secret, Kathryn," he informed her affectionately. "I only ask for two out of the fear that otherwise you'd give it to me black. I don't dare ask for just one sugar." 

"Clever of you," she proclaimed. "Very wise indeed." She discovered that her glass was already empty, and relieved him of his. 

B'Elanna watched this exchange nervously as she sipped her own glass of blue liquor. She was fairly certain that it wasn't synthehol. It crossed her mind that her mother would be horrified to see her gingerly nursing a drink like this. The thought did nothing to accelerate her consumption of the beverage. 

Chakotay was working very hard to ignore the presence of Kathryn's hand on his thigh. The task became increasingly more difficult as it crept higher. 

Naomi returned and pulled up a chair beside B'Elanna. Chakotay used the child's arrival as an excuse to manually remove Kathryn's hand from his leg before she discovered the effect it was having on him. 

At that point, the captain realized that her second glass was now empty, and reached across the table to purloin Harry's untouched drink. The ensign made an attempt to defend it, but he wasn't quick enough. 

B'Elanna glanced down at the tricorder in Naomi's lap. The girl had scanned the glass, and the readings seemed to indicate that the beverage was indeed synthehol. They also showed that there wasn't much else in it. It was an extremely strong drink. 

In theory, synthehol was just as capable of producing intoxication as real alcohol. The real difference was the rate and method of metabolization. Alcohol had to be processed by the liver while synthehol could be flushed out of the system by a rush of adrenaline. 

B'Elanna's anger was doing an excellent job of neutralizing the synthehol she had already consumed. She downed the rest of her glass and stood up. "I need to speak with Tom for a moment." 

Everyone but Janeway noticed the flash of anger in her eyes. Lyssa reached under the table and took the tricorder from Naomi. With a glance, she realized exactly what was going on with the drinks. She passed it to Harry, then bravely drained her own glass before the captain got hold of it. 

Chakotay probably would have been very interested in the tricorder, had he noticed it, but he was extremely distracted by Kathryn. Her hand had meandered back into his lap and his entire attention was focused on ignoring her. He wasn't having a great deal of success.

  


"What the hell did your little bartender give the captain to drink, Paris?" 

"It's synthehol," he yelped in self defense. 

"Yeah, it's synthehol, all right. Synthehol, sugar, and blue dye." 

"What, you got a tricorder over there?" 

"Yes," B'Elanna hissed. "As a matter of fact I do. What are you trying to accomplish?" 

"She's an adult. She knows what synthehol does. Besides, one strong drink won't hurt her any." 

"Maybe not, if she only had one. She's had three." 

"Three? Who the hell gave her three?" 

"She drank Chakotay's. And Harry's." 

"So Chakotay hasn't had any?" 

"Will you focus here? That isn't the problem." 

"What is the problem? You can't get a hangover from synthehol, and one good rush of adrenaline would sober her up if she were called to the bridge. Which, I have to say, is highly unlikely." 

"Well, I'd suggest you trot on up to the bridge and find a way to make it very likely before she embarrasses herself any further." 

"Do you honestly expect me to fake a red alert? I'll end up locked in either sickbay or the brig, and I'm not sure which is worse." 

"You should have thought of that before you spiked the captain's drink." B'Elanna stole a glance at the table. "Now move, before she does something you'll regret." 

"Oh come on, B'Elanna. This is the captain. What could she possibly do?" 

"For starters, she's had her hand in Chakotay's lap for the last ten minutes." B'Elanna watched as Tom turned pale. At least he recognized the potential problem. "How happy do you think she's going to be when she remembers that in the morning? If she decides to start avoiding him then all of our hard work will be in vain."

  


Chakotay couldn't hear what B'Elanna was saying to Tom, but he could guess. The blue stuff obviously had an alcohol content. Angry didn't begin to describe his feelings towards the helmsman at the moment, but he'd have to wait and deal with Paris in the morning. First, he had to get his intoxicated captain out of the holodeck. 

After once again removing her hand from his thigh, he stood and pulled her to her feet. With a supportive arm firmly around Kathryn's waist, he turned to make his excuses to Harry and Lyssa, only to discover it unnecessary. 

Relieved, Chakotay only hoped that Campbell's behavior hadn't been influenced solely by her beverage. 

"You promised to warn me before you bit my neck," Harry protested quietly once the commanding officers were out of earshot. 

Lyssa smiled wickedly. "Did you want them to think we noticed her condition?"

  


"Looks like your lucky night, Paris," B'Elanna said. "Chakotay has seen fit to take her home. You'd just better thank Kahless he's a gentleman. Oh, and I'd stay out of his way tomorrow if I were you." 

"Yeah, I think you're right."

  


"Deck Five," Chakotay ordered as the two senior officers entered the turbolift. 

She looked at him questioningly. "Deck Five? Your quarters aren't on Deck Five." 

"We're not going to my quarters," he said softly. 

"My quarters aren't on Deck Five either." 

"I know that, Kathryn. We're stopping by sickbay." 

"Sickbay?" She leaned against him. "That doesn't sound like any fun. Your quarters would be better." To prove her point she ran her hand over his posterior. 

He stepped away and she nearly toppled over. "I'm going to kill Tom," he muttered as he reached to steady her once again. 

"My balance is a little off tonight," Janeway observed. "I think we should both go lie down." She maneuvered around in front of him and ran her hands up his chest. 

"We will." He pried her arms from around his neck. "After we've been to sickbay." 

"Why sickbay?" 

"We need to do something about your...condition." 

She looked puzzled. "What condition?" 

He couldn't very well lie to her. "Kathryn, you're drunk." 

"Impossible." She employed the skewed logic of one who had been drinking. "I haven't been drunk since I was sixteen." 

"Yeah, well, you are now." 

She tried to clear her head. "We were only drinking synthehol." 

"Yeah, that's what I thought. But, unless I miss my guess, Tom Paris somehow managed to put one over on us." 

Anger seeped into her consciousness. What if she had been called to the bridge? The ship could have been put at risk; she certainly had been feeling reckless. 

They were both surprised and grateful that the Doctor was in sickbay when they arrived. 

"Well, I can clearly see the nature of the medical emergency." The Doctor ran a tricorder over the captain. "And just how many did you have, Captain?" 

She looked at Chakotay. 

"Three," he supplied. 

"I can honestly say that I've never seen anyone get this inebriated drinking synthehol. Commander, are you sure she only had three?" 

"Yes. Her own, mine, and Harry's. Only I'm not so sure it was synthehol." 

"Oh, it was synthehol all right. But from these readings I'd guess she had somewhere in the neighborhood of twenty. There must not have been any water in those drinks at all." 

Chakotay gasped. "I'm really going to kill him." 

"Him?" 

The first officer was fuming. "Paris." He touched the captain's shoulder and his voice softened. "Is she going to be all right?" 

"She'll be fine. Although I wouldn't leave her alone quite yet. Synthehol is usually metabolized fairly rapidly, but it usually isn't consumed in such quantity. You might have to wait until morning to murder Mister Paris." 

Chakotay returned his arm to its position around Kathryn's waist. "Don't worry, I won't actually kill him. I want him to suffer." 

The Doctor nodded. "I have a suggestion involving the floor of sickbay and a toothbrush. In the meantime, who else had one of these drinks?" 

"B'Elanna had one, and so did Ensign Campbell. You might want to go back down to the holodeck and find out if anyone else did." 

"On my way. You'd better get the captain to bed. And Commander, it wouldn't be a bad idea if you stayed with her. Don't let her sleep on her back, and make sure she drinks plenty of water. Once again, synthehol shouldn't cause the side effects that alcohol does, but with the quantity she has had, I think we'd better err on the side of caution." 

"Are you both aware that I'm standing right here?" Janeway asked. It occurred to her that she probably should have pointed that out earlier. Frustrated by her lack of clarity, she struggled to think. "Doctor, how about a stimulant; something to produce adrenaline?" 

"Captain, I don't really think that would be wise. Go get some sleep. You'll be fine in the morning." 

Her protest died on her lips as Chakotay thanked the Doctor and led her out of sickbay.

  


### Day Fourteen

Tom canceled the morning meeting. After receiving visits from both Tuvok and the captain the previous morning, it would have been foolhardy to continue. Instead, the principle figures gathered on Deck Fifteen. 

"So nice of you to join us, Mister Paris," the Doctor drawled as the conn officer arrived. "We were just discussing your method of execution. We came to the conclusion that leaving you to Chakotay would certainly mean a most painful demise." 

"Hey, this isn't all my fault!" 

"Oh, and whose fault would it be?" Harry asked. "I didn't see anyone else tampering with the replicators." 

"I figured she'd only have one," Tom said. "She always only has one. So I tripled the synthehol. I thought it might loosen her tongue when I lured her onto the dance floor." 

The Doctor shook his head in disagreement. "You more than tripled the synthehol. You depleted the water content. Each drink had the strength of seven or eight." 

Tom's eyes widened. "I didn't mean to do that. My God, someone could have gotten really sick. Is the captain okay?" 

"She should be fine, physically," the Doctor said. "I would have heard from Chakotay if she wasn't." 

"I'm sure she's mad as hell, though," B'Elanna muttered. "She was all over Chakotay last night." She changed the topic. "What replicator did you use, Tom? I'll have Vorik run a diagnostic." 

"The one in the holodeck. I'll go apologize to the captain when we're done here." 

"Are you sure that's wise?" the Doctor asked. 

"Probably not." Tom sighed. "But I've got it coming and I'd rather face the captain than Chakotay right now." 

"Catching her alone might be tricky," the Doctor warned. "I sent her home with the commander last night. She had the first ever case of synthehol poisoning and I didn't want to take any chances." 

Resigned to his fate, Tom nodded his understanding. 

"In the meantime, does anyone have any ideas concerning the captain and Chakotay?" B'Elanna asked. 

"We'd better do something before I start to fall for him myself," Lyssa said, laughing. "He's so darn...attentive." 

Tom grinned. "Are you saying that Harry isn't?" 

Lyssa rolled her eyes. "Harry and I are just friends. He is my immediate superior officer, after all." 

"Hey, that's right, I am!" Harry practically shouted. 

"What, you didn't know that?" Lyssa asked. 

"No, I mean yes, but I didn't think about it." Harry's entire mood had changed. "Technically, since the transporter chief reports directly to the operations officer, we're prohibited from having a relationship under the same set of protocols that's holding the captain back." 

She nodded. "So if we went to the captain and asked for permission to break the rule..." 

"It might lead to an opening." The Doctor was nodding. "She can't very well grant you two an exception without rethinking her own situation." 

B'Elanna was enthusiastic as well. "Then all that we'd have to do was get her to know how the former Maquis feel, and we're home free!" 

"I guess it's official, Harry. I'm madly in love with you." 

"What about the next beautiful alien girl we meet?" Tom protested. "Who will sweep her off her feet? Vorik?" 

"Vorik can be very charming," B'Elanna said. "He's even developed a sense of humor." 

"Since when?" 

"Just yesterday he volunteered to eject the warp core in order to rescue me from lunch with Chakotay." B'Elanna was grinning. "Joe thought he was serious for a moment." 

"Okay. I'll admit it. That is funny, at least in an engineering kind of way."

  


The first thing Janeway noticed as she regained consciousness was Chakotay's arm around her waist. Her eyes popped open and she did a quick personal inventory. She was lying on her side with Chakotay behind her. She was dressed. Not just dressed, in fact, but apparently in uniform. So was Chakotay's arm, and therefore, presumably, so was Chakotay. 

Memories of the previous evening came flooding back. An alien bar on the holodeck, sweet blue synthehol...practically assaulting Chakotay in the turbolift. Sickbay. 

Horrified at her own behavior and furious with Tom, she carefully extracted herself from Chakotay's hold. She almost laughed out loud when she noticed the sheer quantity of blankets he had managed to put between them, then cringed at how she must have been behaving to inspire such ingenuity. The word protocol must have temporarily disappeared from her vocabulary the night before. 

Thirst pushed embarrassment from her mind momentarily, and she spotted a large pitcher of water on the nightstand. She drank three glasses before she started to feel better. 

"Kathryn?" 

She jumped at the sound of her own name mumbled groggily and turned to find Chakotay struggling back to awareness. He sat up. 

"How are you feeling?" His face was full of concern. 

"I've felt better. What the hell was I drinking last night?" 

"That's what I intend to find out." Anger seeped into his voice. He got out of bed and went to stand in front of the dresser. 

"I'm sorry." 

He turned and looked at her in surprise. "Sorry? For what?" 

"For anything I might have done last night that made you uncomfortable. I obviously can't hold my synthehol and I'm sorry." 

"Kathryn, you didn't do anything that requires an apology." 

"Chakotay, I do remember most of the evening." 

"So you were a little affectionate. No harm done, and it wasn't your fault anyhow." He flashed his dimples. "I assure you, I didn't mind one bit." 

She let the subject drop. "You can have the shower. I've got to go back to my own quarters for a fresh uniform anyhow. I'll see you on the bridge."

  


Janeway stepped out into the corridor in her rumpled uniform and ran straight into Tom Paris. Damn. Here she was planning his decapitation and now he had her at a disadvantage. 

"Mister Paris." She treated him to her death glare. He had the good grace to cringe and look at the floor. 

"Captain, I owe you an apology." He glanced at the door to the first officer's quarters, and shifted his weight from one foot to the other. 

Good. Let him squirm. Let him worry that Chakotay could emerge at any second to break his neck. Throwing him in the brig just didn't have the same appeal. 

"I tampered with the replicator on the holodeck, but the results were a little more than I bargained for. I'm really sorry. When the Doctor came to me this morning...well, I really am sorry." 

He looked sincere enough, she decided. "I want to know exactly what you did to that replicator, and why it had the effect that it did. I want that information yesterday." 

"Yes, ma'am. Vorik's already on it. Permission to go assist him?" 

"Permission granted. And Tom? You might want to avoid Chakotay today."

  


When she finally did arrive on the bridge, the captain was almost relieved to notice Harry's absence. Was he off duty today, or was B'Elanna borrowing the bridge crew again? 

Either way, it meant she didn't have to face him. She shuddered as he recalled the shocked look on the ensign's face when she swiped his drink. 

Chakotay greeted her with a puzzled observation. "You let Paris transfer to engineering for the day?" 

"It would be unseemly if you murdered him on the bridge, Commander. Not to mention messy. Is Ensign Kim off duty or in engineering?" 

"Off duty." He gave her a meaningful look. "And so is Ensign Campbell." 

"They have been spending a fair amount of time together lately." She looked wistful. "It would be nice if Harry stopped having his heart trampled by every passing female alien." 

The first officer was somewhat surprised to realize that the captain hadn't recognized the problematic nature of the new relationship. It was part of his job to point it out, but for the first time since signing on as Janeway's second in command he let duty fall by the wayside. If she hadn't noticed the protocol conflict, he certainly wasn't going to be the one to mention it. He'd talk to Harry himself, later, and see if there really was any reason for concern.

  


Ensign Vorik began his investigation by replicating a glass of the same beverage that had been served to the captain the night before. His tricorder indicated that synthehol, fructose, and a coloring agent were the only chemicals present. Any drink containing synthehol should have been more than eighty percent water; this one had none. That should have been chemically impossible. 

He carefully studied the instructions that Tom Paris had given the replicator, and was unable to find the problem there. So the conn officer had been telling the truth. He had tampered with the recipe, but not to the point of purposefully serving the captain pure synthehol. 

Next, Vorik replicated a glass of fruit juice. The result was similar. The sludgy liquid produced bore little resemblance to his order, and when scanned it proved to contain no water. The Vulcan had just begun running a diagnostic on the replicator itself when Lieutenant Paris joined him. 

"What's the verdict?" 

"It would seem that the malfunction was not your fault, Lieutenant." Vorik held up the glass of fruit paste. "This unit is not properly replicating water."

  


It was sometime after lunch when Harry and Lyssa were finally prepared to make their move. They had rehearsed their request from all angles, with first B'Elanna and then Tom playing the captain's role. 

The couple marched onto the bridge, their expressions serious. Chakotay realized instantly that they were looking for the captain, and he thought he knew why. He stood and crossed to the ready room door. 

"Harry, why don't you let me talk to her. I might have better luck." 

"No, thank you Commander, but I think this is something we need to do ourselves." 

"Not that we don't appreciate the offer. We do. Really." 

"Then good luck."

  


The door chime sounded. 

"Come," Janeway called, not yet looking up from her work. When she did, she was surprised to see not Chakotay or Tuvok, but rather the two ensigns. They seemed a bit edgy. 

"Ensign Kim. Ensign Campbell. What may I do for you?" 

"Well, Captain, Lyssa and I have decided to start seeing each other." Harry took a deep breath and waited for his captain's response. 

Janeway smiled. "I did notice, Harry, we were at the same table last night." She leaned back in her seat and regarded the young couple seriously. "Pardon me, Ensigns, but why are you here?" 

"We're here to ask permission to pursue a relationship, Captain," Harry answered, puzzled. 

The captain was somewhat perplexed herself. "Unlike your usual dalliances, Mister Kim, Ensign Campbell is quite human. This time, you don't need my permission or clearance from the Doctor." 

Harry was momentarily thrown. He had thought that they were prepared for anything the captain might say, but he hadn't expected her to tease him and it had certainly not occurred to him that he would need to explain the protocol to her. 

"Captain, as transporter chief I serve directly under Harry," Lyssa explained. "According to Starfleet protocol we are not allowed to date. We're here to ask you to grant us an exception to that rule." 

"Oh." The captain looked serious for a moment, and then smiled. She was damned if she was going to let protocol keep Harry from potential happiness. "Well, I see no reason not to grant your request. You're both mature adults and I'm sure you can keep your personal and professional lives separate." 

Both ensigns were annoyed, but they hid it well. "Thank you, Captain."

  


"Good day, Tom!" Neelix called from the kitchen as the pilot entered the mess hall. "What can I get for you?" 

"Nothing right now, Neelix. I just wanted to make sure your replicator isn't giving you any trouble." 

"No, no trouble at all." 

"You won't believe what the replicators on deck fourteen are doing. Instead of water, they're producing hydrogen and oxygen, which dissipate, leaving only the other components of any beverage you order. Hence, pure synthehol." 

"Ouch. It's a good thing nobody replicated anything with real alcohol." 

Tom shuddered. "You don't know how close I came to doing that last night."

  


Chakotay put the last dish onto the dinner table and sat down across from Kathryn. "So what did you tell them?" 

"Who?" 

"Harry and Lyssa. What did you tell them?" 

"I granted their request. How could I not?" 

"What about Starfleet protocols?" 

"I think we can make an exception in this case. Harry deserves to be happy, and so does Lyssa. If there are consequences when Starfleet learns about it, well, I gave them permission so I guess that's my responsibility now." 

Don't you deserve happiness, Kathryn? You'll go out on a limb for every member of this crew except yourself. He was somewhat surprised to realize that he was sorely tempted to actually say it, but he knew that if things were ever to change, the first move would have to be Kathryn's.

  


Tom and B'Elanna carried their trays across the mess hall and joined Harry and Lyssa. 

"So, how did it go?" Tom asked. 

Harry rolled his eyes. "Not well." 

"She shot you down?" B'Elanna asked. 

Tom looked stunned. "I would have bet a month's replicator rations that you'd win her over." 

"And you would have won," Harry muttered. "She didn't shoot us down. Trouble is, she didn't argue one bit." 

"We didn't get to use any of our best lines," Lyssa said. "We asked. She said yes. The end." 

"Unbelievable. She's lived by that protocol for six years, and we know it hasn't been easy for her. We ask to break it and she hardly even blinks." Harry shook his head sadly. 

"It's still the Maquis thing," B'Elanna said. "We've got to find a way to tell her that we want her to be happy." 

"That's the key, isn't it. But how?" Lyssa poked at her food unenthusiastically. She shot a look at Harry and gave an exaggerated sigh. "This is just pathetic. Harry and I have trapped ourselves indefinitely in a sham relationship, and in the meantime the captain and Chakotay are hiding from true love for the next thirty years." 

"Sounds like just another day aboard the voyage of the damned," the Doctor muttered. "Mind if we join you?" 

"By all means, pull up some chairs." Tom threw his arms apart in a rather theatrical gesture of welcome. "That's just what this table needs. The Newlyweds." 

Seven raised an eyebrow. "The Doctor and I have not participated in a marriage ceremony, Lieutenant." 

"It's just an expression, Seven," B'Elanna explained wearily. "I think he's trying to accuse you of being too happy." 

"So what does our great leader have planned for tonight?" the Doctor asked. 

"Tennis," Tom said. 

"And just what do you hope to accomplish with tennis?" 

"Nothing. Absolutely nothing. I'm out of ideas, and until we think of a way to deal with the Maquis situation, it doesn't matter anyhow."

  


"I promised Lyssa that we'd play," Janeway explained. 

"So you're making promises for the two of us now?" Chakotay teased. 

"Do I complain when you tell Neelix that I'll attend one of his parties?" She laughed. "Now please, go change before I decide to make it an order." 

He chuckled as well. "Aye, Captain."

  


They arrived on holodeck two in time to watch Harry and Lyssa thoroughly trounce Tom and B'Elanna. The helmsman approached the first officer as soon as he came off of the court. 

"Chakotay, I just wanted to apologize for last night." 

"No need, Tom. Vorik told me it wasn't your fault." The commander was nothing if not forgiving. "If it had been, you might not have lived long enough to apologize." 

"Understood," Tom said solemnly. He lightened his tone. "Now do me a favor and beat Harry. I've never been so humiliated." 

"I'll try, Tom," Chakotay promised. "I'll certainly try."

  


Janeway and Chakotay squared off against the two ensigns. It quickly became apparent that it was going to be a hard fought match. Both Janeway and Kim always seemed to excel at everything they did, and tennis was proving no exception. 

The first point scored by the younger couple was undoubtedly Chakotay's fault. Temporarily distracted by the glorious sight of Kathryn's amazing legs, he didn't move swiftly enough to hit what should have been an easy shot. 

That, he admitted to himself, was precisely why they couldn't be more than friends. He couldn't even imagine the level of distraction an intimate relationship could produce. Had that happened on the bridge, it could have been fatal. Of course, Kathryn certainly wouldn't have been wearing such a short skirt on the bridge. Not in this century. 

"Are you going to play, Commander, or do I have to cover the whole court?" the captain chided as she hit back a ball which had quite clearly been on his side of the court. 

In the end, the command team managed to finish with their honor intact, winning by a single point. 

"Rematch?" Harry asked hopefully. 

"Not tonight," both Chakotay and Lyssa chorused at once.

  


"I really thought that Chakotay was better at tennis," Tom said. "He isn't bad, but he missed at least two easy shots." 

"He's usually very good." B'Elanna grinned and shook her head. "I think he was watching the captain's legs a little more closely than he was watching the ball." 

"Can't blame him there." Tom said, earning himself a punch in the arm. "Hey, I only meant that I had trouble keeping my eyes off of your attributes when we were playing." 

"I don't buy it, Tom, but I'll make you a deal." B'Elanna leaned over and whispered in his ear. "You can stare at the captain's legs all you want, but then I get to leer at Chakotay. After all, fair is fair." 

Tom grumbled an indistinct response as they set off for her quarters.

  


"Will I have company tonight?" Chakotay asked cautiously once he and the captain were alone in the turbolift. 

She sighed. "Yes, I think you will." 

"You feel guilty about that. Kathryn, don't feel guilty." His voice lowered to a whisper. "This situation isn't your fault. You are as human as the rest of us, captain's pips or not. Everyone gets lonely. Didn't you wonder how I happened to be in your quarters two nights ago?" 

Janeway listened to his speech of reassurance, and was almost prepared to argue with him, as if her guilt needed to be defended. She was stopped by his final question. "What were you doing in my quarters?" 

"I couldn't sleep. I missed you." 

He was trying to alleviate her guilt by claiming it for himself, she realized, but she suspected he was being sincere as well. Someday, she thought fiercely. Someday.

  


When she arrived in his quarters a few minutes later, she immediately disappeared into his bathroom to change. It was still too early in the evening to risk roaming the corridors in a nightgown. Chakotay looked up from his book as she returned. 

She had changed into a high necked, long sleeved, shapeless gray flannel number that she probably assumed couldn't possibly be found alluring. She was mistaken. His heart lost its rhythm as his mind wandered back to the first time he had seen her in Starfleet issue sleepwear. 

Rarely did Chakotay permit himself to remember that uninhabited planet in Vidiian space where he and Kathryn had been marooned together. Now, prompted by the gray nightgown, he recalled the night after the plasma storm and the neck rub that had almost become more. 

Even after more than four years, he could still remember every glorious detail. The softness of her hair as he moved it aside. Her quiet sound of pleasure as the tension in her shoulders gave way to his ministrations... 

He was staring at her as if she had emerged in red silk rather than gray flannel. She glanced down, as if to verify that she was indeed dressed. What could he possibly find so fascinating? He had certainly seen her in far less; even the outfit she had just shed revealed more. 

Deciding it was safer not to acknowledge his attention, she crossed the room and joined him on the couch. "What are you reading?" 

"Dickens," he answered, relieved at her question. For a brief moment he had feared that she'd inquire after his thoughts. That was a query he couldn't have answered. 

One of their most important unspoken rules forbade the mention of that planet and all that it represented. Chakotay didn't even allow himself to think its name. 

To Janeway's annoyance, her feet hurt. If he caught her rubbing them, he'd most likely take matters into his own hands. She tried to ignore the irritating pain, but her resolve was weak. It took about fifteen seconds for him to notice the situation. 

"Sore feet?" He didn't even wait for an answer before taking possession of one tender extremity. His magical hands found the right spot immediately, applying the exact amount of pressure necessary to ease the pain. Her objection went unvoiced. 

Chakotay watched Kathryn's face intently as he worked the knots out of her feet. He didn't linger about the task, despite the temptation it presented. Instead, he sought to prove his self control, to himself as well as to her. 

"Better?" He released her second foot. 

"Much. Do you have any parts that require attention?" 

He swallowed hard and firmly reminded himself that she most certainly had not meant that the way it had sounded. In truth, his shoulder was a bit sore, but he had no intention of revealing that fact. That might test his self control a little bit too much. 

When her inquiry received no answer, she got up and moved closer to him. "I saw you wince when you hit that backhand," she said softly. "Now let me pay you back." 

What could he say? He surrendered, and struggled to remain silent as those exquisite hands slid over his shoulders, sending waves of pleasure throughout his body. He wondered if she had any idea what effect her actions were having. 

For her part, Janeway was fighting back a strong desire to pull his shirt off and explore his glorious shoulders more thoroughly. She imagined pressing her lips against hot, bare skin as her hands slid around his waist and up over his chest. With all of the willpower she could muster, she forced the unwelcome thoughts from her head and concentrated instead on finding the muscle knot. 

Chakotay, always perceptive, had found hers immediately, of course. She had to draw upon her skills as a scientist to locate the source of his discomfort. Once she forced her mind to study the problem at hand, she gained control over her emotions as well. She kneaded the soreness out of the muscle and then moved her hands away. 

"Better?" 

"Better," he managed. He didn't dare turn around, lest his desire for her become apparent. 

She reddened as she realized why he wasn't turning around. She moved to the far end of the couch and closed her eyes. "Why don't you read me some Dickens? Maybe it will make me drowsy enough to go to bed."

  


Chakotay was on the bridge alone. It had been decided that keeping the bridge fully staffed was a waste of time now that they were this far into the void. He was startled when the turbolift doors slid open, and turned to see Kathryn emerge. 

She treated him to a radiant smile. "Computer, seal the doors." 

Instantly alert, Chakotay studied his captain as she approached him. 

"Relax, Chakotay," she murmured. "It's just me, and I'm not under any alien influence. But it's about time that I did this." And she kissed him.

  


Chakotay slipped out of bed, careful not to wake Kathryn. He needed to find the source of his dreams and put an end to them. If the Doctor couldn't help him, then a vision quest was his only option. 

It bothered him that the words 'alien influence' had appeared in the dream. Was his subconscious using those words because of their current concerns, or was this proof that their concerns were justified? He sat down in front of the couch, placed his hand on the akoonah, and began the ritual. 

To his surprise, Chakotay found himself face to face not with his reptilian spirit guide, or with the wolf who frequented his dreams, but rather with Kolopak. 

"Father?" 

"Accuse me of being an alien and I will be sorely disappointed, my son," the gray haired Native American said. "You look for complicated explanations and hidden meanings in such simple things these days." 

"What do you mean?" 

"How hard is it to recognize your desire for the woman you love? Yet here you are, asking the spirits to explain your dreams. Dreams that are quite simple and straightforward, I might add." 

"But it isn't that simple. We have to wait - " 

"Wait? You are here. She is here. Why wait? Tell her of your love for her." 

"I can't. Not until the Alpha Quadrant. I vowed to follow Starfleet policy when I promised to serve her. I'll tell her when this mission ends." 

"Thirty years from now? And what if you never reach the Alpha Quadrant? What if one of you fails to survive the journey? Will she never know how you felt?" 

"She knows." 

"Why? Because you said someday to her? What sort of a declaration of love is that? Someday. What does that even mean?" 

"Kathryn knows what it means. She knows exactly what it means. She knows that I love her, and that I want a life with her, and that she has changed my life for the better, and that I cherish her friendship more than my next breath." 

"Perhaps you are right. The spirits know she makes as little sense as you. Starfleet protocol; waiting until the Alpha Quadrant to start living; using the word someday in place of love." He shook his head sadly. "My contrary son has truly found his soul mate." 

Chakotay angrily sought to defend her. "This isn't about the two of us. We have a crew to bring home, and if we break protocol it will hurt her reputation with Starfleet. If it was just her own career at stake, it would be far different. But it will be her job to protect this crew when we get home. She needs to secure pardons for my old Maquis crew, and she also has the former Equinox crew to worry about. She may have to defend each of her actions here in the Delta Quadrant, and therefore the actions of those following her orders as well." 

"If she has done things which need defending then what's one more?" Kolopak asked. "What has she done that is so terrible?" 

"Nothing. She has done nothing that wasn't the right thing to do." He was adamant. "But there is always the chance that Starfleet will disagree. And there are the Maquis to consider." 

"So it is you and your Maquis who have done wrong?" 

"No. The Maquis did nothing but defend their homes and families. Something I should have done the minute the Cardassians became a threat. The only thing I regret is staying with Starfleet as long as I did after they chose to trust the Cardassians." 

"So if there is no one on this ship who deserves punishment, why do you both expect trouble from Starfleet?" 

"I don't. Not really. I am fairly confident that Kathryn can secure pardons for the Maquis and justify all of her actions in this quadrant. But our relationship might come under scrutiny, and if some admiral decides that we have not behaved appropriately then Kathryn might lose her ability to protect us." 

"Might." Kolopak shook his head. "You might get back to the Alpha Quadrant. And some admiral might be interested in your relationship. And that might have some effect on how the Maquis are treated. Has it not occurred to you that this sacrifice is too much? That you are punishing yourselves now far more than Starfleet ever could, and that it is quite possibly unnecessary?" 

"If I were the only one who might suffer, I would agree with you. But what about B'Elanna? And Garan? And Chell? And Henley? And all of the other former Maquis?" 

"Has it occurred to you that they might not want you to make that sacrifice? They knew the potential consequences when they signed on as Maquis. They were prepared to die fighting the Cardassians, or to serve time in rehabilitation colonies. If they weren't, they wouldn't have been on your ship." 

"Maybe so," Chakotay replied warily. "But it is no longer their decision to make, nor is it mine. The responsibility is now Kathryn's, and as unfair as that may be, she will never see it differently. And I will support her. I cannot change her mind, and I will not try. She carries enough unjustified guilt and I refuse to add to it." 

"So you will continue to live like this, in this state of inaction, for her?" 

"If I must, and right now it seems that I must. I will give her whatever I can, on whatever terms she will accept. But I will not push her." 

"And if she takes another lover? One that her protocols will allow? How will you feel then?" 

"They aren't her protocols. They are Starfleet's. And if our journey drags on, and she finds another to love? Well, then I will continue to be her first officer and her friend. And I will hope that he is worthy of her, and that he makes her happy." 

"Will that not hurt you, to see her with another?" 

"Perhaps. But I want her to be happy. If it really does take us twenty or thirty years to get home, then I would be selfish to expect her to wait for me." 

"Why should either of you expect the other to wait at all? You will not know the length of your journey until it is complete." 

"She is not asking me to wait. But I will wait for her because I love her. I could never be happy with anyone else. If she and I can never be together, then so be it. But I could never be happy knowing that she was lonely. And I would gladly spend the rest of my lifetime beside her in friendship, but I never wish to spend even five minutes in the arms of another woman." 

"What about Riley Frazier?" 

"She manipulated me." Chakotay cringed at the memory. "I never would have had anything to do with her if it weren't for that Borg neural implant." 

"And Kellin?" 

This question confused him. "Who is Kellin?" 

"Never mind. You will not remember. I see I will not convince you today, my son. I only hope that she is worthy of your devotion, and that you do not waste your lives in waiting and yearning." 

"She is worthy," Chakotay assured the old man. "She is more than worthy. I feel very lucky just to have her as a friend. And the waiting will end, someday."

  


Janeway awoke and was surprised to find that Chakotay was not beside her. Without even bothering to scold herself for missing him, she climbed out of bed and crept out into the living room. 

He was sitting on the floor, his medicine bundle open beside him. Feeling like an intruder, she turned back towards the bedroom. 

"Kathryn?" His voice was soft. "Please don't go." 

She reversed her course and sat down next to him. Slightly worried, she tried through the darkness to read the expression on his face. "What is it?" 

He remained silent for a moment, as if gathering his thoughts. "I had a dream which troubled me. So I went on a vision quest." 

She waited, then on impulse reached over and took his hand. "Want to tell me about it?" she prompted when he didn't continue. 

"I don't think that I can," he answered slowly. "Not right now. But sometime in the future I will." 

She accepted that, and they sat together in silence for a while. 

"Are you happy?" he asked at last. 

The seriousness in his tone left no room for a light answer. "I wouldn't trade the last six years for anything. Do I want to go home? Of course. But am I really sorry that we're here? No, I don't think that I am. I'm really very thankful for so many things. This ship. This crew. You." She watched his face. "I've never been as close to anyone as I am to you. I wouldn't trade our friendship for a wormhole all the way to San Francisco." 

"Neither would I," he answered hoarsely. He bit back words of love and reined in his yearning to kiss her. Speaking softly, he said as much as he dared. "You do know how very special you are to me, don't you?" 

"Of course I do," she whispered. She lifted his hand to her lips, pressing a kiss to his fingers and watching as his eyes drifted shut. Every cell in her body ached with the desire to taste his lips. Instead, she ducked forward, draped his arm around her shoulders, and snuggled up against him. 

They sat like that, holding each other on the floor in front of his couch, each wishing they could offer the other more, and eventually they drifted off to sleep once again.

  


### Day Fifteen

The conspirators were packed into Ensign Kim's quarters like tribbles in a bin of quadrotriticale. Neelix had an idea. So Tom, B'Elanna, Harry, Seven, the Doctor, Lyssa, Joe, Sam, and Vorik were joined by Brad Harrison, Noah Mannick, and Gabrielle Allyn, as well as Chell, Garan, Henley, and a number of other former Maquis not currently assigned to gamma shift. 

"So what have you got, Neelix?" Tom asked. 

"Do you remember our stay on Hellhole?" 

B'Elanna snorted. "Kind of hard to forget, don't you think?" 

"Does anyone remember exactly what Chakotay said when he finished sharing his life story?" Neelix asked. 

"Something about the captain, as I recall," Tom answered. He looked around at the group. 

Harry spoke up, grinning. "I don't remember his exact words, but it was something about being grateful to have met her, even if it meant spending the rest of his life on a ship with Tom Paris." 

As the laughter died down, Gabrielle suddenly realized why she, Brad, and Noah had been included in the meeting. Neelix had included everyone who had been on Hellhole. "I remember. He made the crack about being stuck with Tom for the rest of his life, then said 'It was all made worthwhile by one thing: having met and worked beside the remarkable woman named Kathryn Janeway.'" 

"That's very sweet," the Doctor said. "Now what good is it going to do us?" 

"Everyone on board this ship has a story like that, and maybe the captain needs to hear some of them," Neelix explained. "We need to let her know how many of us are glad to be on Voyager." 

"True, but how do you propose we accomplish that?" 

"Today is the anniversary of our escape from the Subu," Neelix said. 

Seven interrupted. "You are mistaken." 

"Not really. Not by Earth's calendar," Neelix said hastily. "But it is by the Talaxian calendar. It's just an excuse, anyhow. If we could get everyone, especially the former Maquis, to share some of the reasons they are thankful to be a part of this crew, maybe we could work on convincing the captain that sacrificing her personal happiness isn't necessary." 

"Good idea, Neelix," Tom said. "Everyone spread the word to those who aren't here. And start thinking about what you are planning to say." 

Harry interrupted. "Remember, it needs to sound spontaneous." 

"And please be subtle," B'Elanna added.

  


When Janeway awoke for the second time that morning she felt much more well rested. The tinge of guilt she felt for waking up in her first officer's arms dueled briefly with her enjoyment of the same fact. Both were overridden by her concern for him as she remembered their earlier discussion. 

What sort of dream could have chased him out of bed in the middle of the night, and why couldn't he tell her about it? Was he worried about fueling her nightmares? What could be so disturbing? She shuddered at the possibilities. 

Here she was finally able to escape her nightmares, and now Chakotay was being bothered by traumatic dreams. She decided that it might be wise to investigate. Perhaps others on board had been troubled in their sleep. 

The memory of one encounter with a telepathic dream species made her wary; she refused to let seemingly quiet space lure her into a false sense of security. 

She'd go talk to the Doctor. Later. But right now she was going to stay right where she was for just a few more minutes. 

Eventually, a change in his breathing told her that he was awake. She smiled as she realized that he was trying to remain still, unwilling to disturb her. "It's okay," she whispered to him. "I'm awake." 

He chuckled softly. "I was waiting for you and you were waiting for me. We could have kept that up all day." 

"I wasn't complaining," she replied as she sat up. They both climbed to their feet. "Can I count on your company for breakfast?" 

He flashed the smile she found so endearing. "Always."

  


Both Tom Paris and Lyssa Campbell were scheduled for shifts in sickbay. Harry Kim had work to do in engineering, and while she was technically off duty, B'Elanna Torres had little interest in being anywhere else at the moment. 

She and Harry headed for deck eleven, engrossed in a conversation about the aft shield generator. Tom and Lyssa set off for deck five. 

"If tonight doesn't work, I think we should take drastic measures," Tom said. He was grinning. 

"Oh? Like what?" 

The helmsman snickered. "Possibly a little transporter malfunction. Do you think you could manage to lock their clothes in the pattern buffer?" 

She laughed, then stared at him. "You're not serious, are you? My God, Tom, she'd kill you and I'd help her!" 

"Okay, bad idea. But I'm really starting to get desperate. I thought they just needed a little push, but this is turning into hard work." 

"Like Seven said, they are stubborn." 

"That's an understatement." 

Lyssa looked serious for a moment. "Actually, I think it's the captain that's stubborn." 

"No. It takes two for this level of pigheadedness. If he'd just tell her exactly how he felt - " 

She interrupted. "You don't think he has?" 

"What, that whole someday thing?" He rolled his eyes. 

"You can't tell me you don't think that was romantic." 

"No, I think it was romantic as hell. But that's not the point." 

"Then what is the point?" 

"If he'd just push, just a little bit, then she'd be forced to make a decision. And I know she loves him. She couldn't possibly reject him outright." 

"She couldn't?" 

"No, she couldn't. Not any more than I could have turned down B'Elanna. But as long as he stands back and waits for her, she can just continue along with their twisted little denialfest." 

"I don't think denialfest is a word." 

"Oh now that's certainly a point worth debating." 

The Doctor found his routine duties to be a bit more challenging as he tried to ignore the argument Tom and Lyssa had carried into his sickbay. His tolerance finally expired. 

"Lieutenant. Ensign. Would you two please take this discussion out of my sickbay? Or better yet, find something else to argue about before someone overhears you." 

"Overhears what, Doctor?" Captain Janeway asked as she entered. She had no idea what she had missed, but she took some pleasure in watching Tom turn red anyhow. She felt more sympathy for Ensign Campbell. 

"Good morning, Captain. What can I do for you today?" The Doctor shot a look at the two part-time medics, who promptly bolted, muttering about the transporters on the Delta Flyer. 

The captain took a seat across from the Doctor's desk. "I wanted to know if any crew members have come to you about experiencing strange dreams recently." 

He looked uneasy. "As a matter of fact, I have had one person make such a complaint." 

Her face registered concern. "Nightmares?" 

"No. That individual was being troubled by dreams of an erotic nature." 

"Oh. I see." 

"I cannot say more without - " 

She cut him off. "Please don't. I understand. I'm probably just worrying for nothing, but I need to know if this is a pattern. Please let me know if anyone else complains about having unusual dreams in the next few days." 

"Aye, Captain," the Doctor replied as he watched her retreat. "That's right, Captain," he muttered under his simulated breath, "It must be aliens. You and the commander couldn't possibly just be attracted to one another."

  


With Chakotay off duty, Janeway was finding her morning to be exceptionally dull. The most inspiring report she read all day was B'Elanna's, which included a far too detailed description of the replicator repairs on deck fourteen. 

Even Tom's humming would have been a welcome distraction at this point, but Ensign Henley had taken his place at the conn while he worked in sickbay. The helm needed little attention, and the young woman was working busily on a padd. 

Ensign Wildman left the science station to stroll over to the helm for what must have been the twentieth time in the last hour. Janeway watched as the two women whispered to each other and once again traded data padds. She was just starting to really wonder what they were doing when her boredom was relieved by the swish of the turbolift doors. 

The first officer crossed the bridge and slid into his seat. "Ship still on course, Captain?" 

"Seems to be." 

"What is this holiday we're supposed to be celebrating tonight? I've never heard of it." 

"Neither have I. It's probably just an excuse for a party. You know Neelix." 

They shared a smile.

  


The first to speak was the Doctor. Janeway knew how much he adored being the center of attention, and she feared a long winded speech. She was surprised by the level of emotion in his voice as he began. 

"If I weren't on Voyager, I might not have even achieved sentience. I would still be very similar to what I was on the day I was first activated. A computer program, capable of little else outside of my medical abilities. 

"Yet thanks to Captain Janeway and this crew, I have come to know so many things, even love. Especially love. And being in love is the greatest experience life has to offer. 

"So am I glad to be a part of this mission? Unquestionably. And tonight I appreciate the opportunity to remember just how lucky I really am." 

Seven of Nine took his place. "I, too, have benefited beyond measure from being a part of this crew. Captain Janeway has helped me achieve individuality. I have learned what it means to live, and what it means to love. And I want to thank every member of this crew for making that possible." 

She was quiet for a moment, perhaps struggling with her emotions. "Had it not been for Voyager, I would still be a member of the Collective, and that is not an appealing prospect. The Borg do not experience friendship, love, or even adventure. Here, I have experienced all of those things." 

"Tough act to follow," Harry whispered in Lyssa's ear. She made a fairly public show of extracting herself from his arms and moved to take her turn. 

"I signed on with Starfleet hoping for adventure, but fearing that there was little opportunity to be a part of the sort of discoveries that my childhood heroes made. 

"For those who served in the days of Kirk, Spock, and Pike, the Alpha Quadrant still contained seemingly inexhaustible mystery. I wanted to seek out new life, and new civilization, but if Voyager had remained in the Alpha Quadrant, would that have really happened? I don't believe so. 

"I am selfishly glad that we ended up so far from home. I do someday hope to return to Federation space, and I would like to see my crewmates reunited with their loved ones, but for me, I wouldn't trade this adventure of ours for anything. 

"Now, I have found someone to share my life with, and I wouldn't trade that away either. I'd like to thank Captain Janeway for seeing the wisdom in bending the rules when necessary. Love should not be bound by regulations." 

As Lyssa and Harry again treated the room to a public display of affection, B'Elanna stood to speak. 

"I don't think anyone who knows me can question how grateful I am to be on board Voyager. Captain Janeway has given me opportunities that I never would have had otherwise. 

"I am thankful for the engineering challenges, the friendships, the personal growth, and most of all for the happiness that I have found with Tom. Whatever the future holds, it will be worth it, to have been a part of this voyage and to have fallen in love." 

With tears in her eyes, the engineer ceded the floor to young Naomi Wildman. The child was beaming. 

"Voyager is my home, and I think it is the best place to live in the whole galaxy. And I should know. Thanks to Voyager I have seen a lot of the galaxy. I'm glad that this ship came to the Delta Quadrant, because if it hadn't I wouldn't have met Neelix or Seven or the Doctor or probably anyone else on Voyager. I am thankful for all of the people that I love. I hope that everyone is as happy as I am, especially Captain Janeway, because she makes Voyager a special place to live." 

Tom Paris was crying before he even started speaking. Janeway wondered if it was Naomi's speech that had gotten to him. "How can I even find the words to express how much Voyager means to me? I should get down on my knees every day and kiss Captain Janeway's feet. She gave me a second chance, and because of that, I have become the person I am today. I can look at myself in the mirror and see a Starfleet officer, someone who makes a difference, someone with integrity and accomplishments. 

"I have also gained love. Something I thought I would never have again, and something which is more precious than anything in this galaxy." 

Unable to say more, he let Harry take his place. "Unlike everyone else on board, I was given a choice once. This life, on Voyager, or life in an alternate timeline, working at Starfleet Command. It was not a difficult decision. I would not give up even the hardest times on this ship for an easier life anywhere else. 

"I am grateful to be sharing this incredible adventure with the best friends I could ever wish for, and I am glad to have a chance for happiness with Lyssa, thanks to Captain Janeway's wisdom and generosity." 

Chell spoke next. The ordinarily cheerful Bolian spoke with great seriousness. "Like every former Maquis on board Voyager, I might someday be asked to face the consequences for my past. But not for one moment will I have any regrets. 

"I am not sorry to have followed Commander Chakotay in the past. We were all only doing what we felt was right, and we were all prepared to die fighting the Cardassians. 

"Fate had a different destiny in store for us, and for that I am tremendously grateful. I have grown and learned on Voyager, and I have gained friendships that have enriched my life. I hope that Captain Janeway realizes just how much we all owe her. There is nothing I wouldn't do to repay her kindness." 

The quiet was broken as various people voiced their agreement with Chell's sentiment. Megan Delaney bounced into the spotlight. 

"I don't think anyone has ever accused me of being unhappy. But that doesn't mean I'm going to miss the chance to say a few words tonight. I, too, am grateful to be on Voyager, and if we're out here another five years, or even another thirty, I won't mind at all. 

"I've got something of a reputation as a party girl, and I don't mind that. I do enjoy my free time. But I am also a stellar cartographer, and in that respect, being on Voyager has been a dream come true. We've mapped more star systems than any Federation ship in the last century. And I never thought I'd be able to see a binary neutron star." 

Ensign Henley was the next to take a turn. "My [grandfather](henley.html) had a saying that has stuck with me. 'Be where you are.' That is how I live my life. I don't sacrifice the present mourning the events of the past, or wondering what might have been, or worrying about the future. 

"I am glad to be on Voyager, and I will continue to enjoy both ordinary routine and each new adventure that presents itself. I am not serving on this ship because I'm hoping for a pardon once we get home. I am serving on this ship because that is the hand I was dealt, and I am happy here, regardless of what may yet be." 

Vorik stood and nodded at Henley. "Live every day. A wise and logical recommendation. We are here, in the Delta Quadrant. It would be illogical to waste energy lamenting that fact, or to miss out on the many opportunities we are given here. 

"Early in our journey, there were a few who thought we should avoid wasting time with exploration of any kind. I disagreed. This crew has had a unique opportunity to explore this quadrant. I, for one, have gained much from the experience. As for the future? I will be able to tell my grandchildren that I was on Voyager." 

Janeway was next startled to see Mortimer Haren take the floor. He rarely left deck fifteen, and certainly didn't make social appearances. 

"I don't think anyone on this ship was more dissatisfied with our situation than I was for the first few years. But thanks to Captain Janeway, my opinion has changed. I've actually seen a device capable of containing dark matter! How many theoretical physicists can say that? So whether we're out here for another month, or year, or thirty years, I'm not sorry to be here. I am grateful to have expanded my horizons, and I now understand why so many members of this crew would happily follow our captain into hell and back." 

There were more shouts of agreement. Tal Celes overcame her usual shyness to speak her piece. 

"I thought I was accepted into Starfleet Academy just because I happened to be Bajoran, and I was probably right. But not long ago, Captain Janeway showed me that I could be more to Starfleet than just a political statement. 

"She pointed out that she chose to make me a part of her crew because I showed evidence of unconventional thinking. I have tried to develop that ability, and it has made me better at my job, and happier in my life. If my first mission had been on any other ship, I probably would have left Starfleet by now. But I am glad that I haven't. I am glad to be a part of Voyager."

  


Janeway sat and listened as each member of her unique crew came forward and spoke. Many brought tears to her eyes with their words. Those who had lost the most when Voyager was transported to the Delta Quadrant, such as Joe Carey, Samantha Wildman, and Lieutenant Ayala, reminded her that they had not given up hope, and that they did not regret their sacrifices. 

Others, especially many of the former Maquis, stressed that being aboard Voyager was the greatest blessing of their lives. Even Noah Lessing and Marla Gilmore spoke, and thanked the captain for the second chances they had been given after their hellish experiences aboard the Equinox. The evening seemed to provide a contrast to her nightmare. 

"Commander, do you have anything to say?" Neelix prodded. 

Chakotay got to his feet and looked around at the crew. There were tears in his eyes. "I, too, am grateful that fate placed me here, on this ship, beside the most extraordinary captain in Starfleet. We may still have many challenges to face, but I know that we will persevere, because we are all lucky enough to be part of such a resourceful crew." 

He exchanged a look with Kathryn. He could see that she was putting forth a heroic effort to remain composed. Neelix would no doubt expect her to speak next, so he stalled for a moment in order to give her the chance to collect herself and gather her thoughts. 

"Everyone has remembered to mention the important things tonight. Adventure, accomplishment, friendship, love. But I haven't heard a single word about how lucky we are to have holodecks, replicators, sonic showers, and, of course, Neelix's leola root stew. So I'll mention them now, because I remember going without those luxuries on the Liberty, as do many of you." 

Janeway shot him a smile of thanks and rose to add her thoughts to the evening. "Thank you, all of you, for sharing your feelings. This journey hasn't always been easy, but knowing that you haven't all been miserable means a great deal to me. No other captain ever had a finer crew." 

She decided to no longer feel guilty about caring. How could she not? How could anyone blame her for loving all of these special people? 

"Each one of you is very dear to me, and I am grateful to have every single one of you on board, contributing to Voyager's incredible pool of talent. When we get back to Federation space, and we will, I will make sure Starfleet knows exactly how hard you have all worked to make this mission a success. 

"We may have been sent out on a three week long errand, but when we return, it will be with enough data to keep Federation scientists busy for decades. We have obtained more information about the Borg than any ship has ever gathered. We have proven the existence of the shadow universe. We have managed to divert the path of a runaway star, rendering it harmless. I could go on, but you were all there. Thank you all, for all of the hard work you do every day."

  


Back in Chakotay's quarters, Janeway curled up on the couch with a cup of coffee. She patted the seat beside her. He took the hint and joined her. 

"I think they were trying to send me a message. I'm just not entirely sure what it was." 

"I think they wanted to thank their captain for a few things. I told you about how we passed the time while we were prisoners that time. Everyone who spoke then was glad to be on this ship, even if it meant dying in that camp." 

She nodded and smiled at the memory. Temporarily losing almost her entire senior staff to the Subu had been traumatic, but after everyone had returned safely to the ship, she and Chakotay had relaxed over dinner in her quarters. 

They had ended up staying awake until dawn as Chakotay related every detail to her. She almost felt as if she had been there with him, sharing in the bonding and the story telling, he had described the experience so thoroughly. 

Chakotay continued. "I also think that Neelix wanted everyone to be reminded of our good fortune. He did a good job. We were wise to make him the morale officer." 

She laughed. "Best command decision we ever made."

  


### Day Sixteen

Tom Paris had decided to risk another morning meeting, and as a result the shuttlebay was packed. "Now that we've done as much damage to their excuses as possible, let's move forward." 

"Not one word about clothing in the pattern buffer," Lyssa warned. 

"At this point I'm thinking Seven was right about locking them in the brig," Harry said. "B'Elanna, how would you feel about giving Chakotay a little lecture?" 

"Not yet. Maybe if this keeps dragging on I'll try to talk to him. But right now I'm afraid that talking to Chakotay might give us away." 

"Whatever happened to that secret admirer ploy?" Ensign Jenkins asked. "Couldn't we try that now?" 

"It still has the same problem," Sam answered. "How do we make it sound like Chakotay?" 

"We would need something that Chakotay has written," Tom said. "Then we could copy the style." 

"Well, we can't access his personal logs," B'Elanna argued. "It just wouldn't be right." 

"And the first officer's logs would be too formal," Harry said. "Not that they'd be any less off limits anyhow. I guess we'll have to think of something else." 

Neelix bit his lip as he tried to decide whether to share what he knew. He glanced nervously at the Doctor. "Kes told me something about a letter Chakotay left for the captain, in the event of his passing. She said it was in sickbay." 

The Doctor froze for a moment, and then nodded. "It won't do us any good, I'm afraid. It's on paper, and it's sealed. The letter's three or four years old, anyhow." 

"Not to mention the fact that it would still be a violation of privacy to read it," B'Elanna reminded them. 

"I've got an idea," Tal Celes interrupted. "Not all messages are written. Why don't we send her flowers?" 

"That's not bad," Harry agreed. "Except how do we send them?" 

Celes looked at Lyssa Campbell, who smiled. "Use the transporter."

  


Captain and Commander had fallen into a comfortable, if technically inappropriate, routine. They awoke together, had breakfast together, went on duty and ran the ship as they always had, met again for dinner, socialized with their crew together, and finally slept side by side, yet apart, once again. They didn't cross what they mutually perceived to be The Line, but the outside observer would have been baffled. 

Today was little different from the days that had gone before, except that Janeway, still concerned that some external influence might be affecting her crew, had claimed Ensign Wildman's post as her own for the day. She now sat at the science station, running every scan that occurred to her and reminiscing about her days as a science officer aboard the Al-Batani. 

It had been aboard that vessel, commanded by Owen Paris, that she had first met Lieutenant Justin Tighe. Working with him had been exasperating. She recalled her shock when Admiral Paris had called her into his ready room to patiently explain that Justin had feelings for her. 

Looking back, it occurred to her just how difficult it must have been for Justin. In love, and prevented by protocol from uttering a word. That had a familiar ring to it, now. She had been directly under his command in the science department at the time. 

She had also been completely oblivious to his feelings, partially because she had deliberately walled herself off from such things, and partially because he had treated her coldly most of the time. 

That mission hadn't been a ceaseless trek across the Delta Quadrant, and Justin hadn't been the captain, but she felt a sudden jolt of sympathy for the man who had been her first love. 

He had been so different from Chakotay, who could never hide his feelings from her, even though he tried. She attempted to imagine Chakotay disguising his love for her beneath a surly attitude, and naturally failed. 

With a stab of guilt, she realized how many times she had hurt Chakotay, treating him to the cold shoulder. Her cruelty far exceeded Justin's sometimes thoughtless behavior. Yet Chakotay had never wavered in his loyalty, his caring, or his support. Almost without fail, he always gave her the very best part of himself. 

She had seen him at his worst, once. She shuddered at the memory of Chakotay slamming Noah Lessing up against the wall in a corridor on deck ten. Never had she seen Chakotay angrier, and she cringed in shame, knowing that it hadn't been Lessing that had pushed him to that point. It had been her. And it hadn't been easily accomplished. 

What would Justin have done in Chakotay's place that day? Would he have stopped her from committing murder? Would he have known her well enough to recognize her loss of control? It wasn't a fair question, she knew. Had Justin lived, he would have changed as much with the passing time as had she. And she had not known Justin long enough to know him as completely as she knew Chakotay. She could predict Chakotay's actions in almost any situation. Justin had been something of a mystery to her, even then. 

There was one thing of which she was certain. If Justin had lived to see the Cardassian treaty signed, he most surely would have left Starfleet to join the Maquis, and she doubted that she would have followed him. While she had distrusted the Cardassians, disapproved of the treaty, and sympathized with the Federation citizens in the demilitarized zone, she hadn't supported the actions of the Maquis, and she hadn't left Starfleet. She honestly didn't think that her actions would have been different if she had married Justin. 

Suddenly she imagined herself married to Chakotay, and faced with the same choice. Her decision was no longer as clear. It wasn't quite the same choice any more, and not just because Chakotay's decision had been prompted by the slaughter of his family. 

Forced to choose between Chakotay and Starfleet, what would she do? She realized that in a way, she had already been faced with that decision. Against all protocol, she loved him. But she wouldn't act on that emotion until after they reached home and she was released from the burden of that protocol. Her loyalty to Starfleet was steadfast, despite her resentment of that particular regulation. And yet she broke the rule in spirit, if not in action. She loved him, and desperately looked forward to the day that she could show him exactly how much. 

It seemed that for the last six years, she had been struggling to choose between Chakotay and Starfleet, and in a way, both had lost. 

Chakotay watched Kathryn at the science station. He could see that she was mentally wrestling with something, and he wanted to go over and ask her about it. He forced himself to sit still. If it was ship related, she'd speak up. Anything else would have to wait until they were off duty, and alone. He just hoped she would tell him.

  


Sickbay was crowded. It was also, at the moment, a very loud place. The variety, color, and quantity of the planned botanical message were all hotly debated. 

The Doctor admitted to having seen Chakotay with a peace rose following the crash of the Sacajawea. "I really thought he'd tell her how he felt after that. She nearly died and it really shook him up. When Tuvok and I arrived at the crash site, he was doing CPR and begging her not to die. I've never seen anyone so frightened." 

"Maybe he did tell her, and she pushed him away," Harry said. 

Tom had a different theory. "Or maybe he decided to wait until after she'd recovered from the ordeal, and then lost his nerve." 

"I thought she'd tell him after our encounter with dark matter," B'Elanna said. "I've never seen her as rattled as she was after Chakotay and Tom disappeared." 

"The aftermath of a crisis just never seems to work with those two," the Doctor said. "They're both just too good at hiding their emotions." 

"Well, not this time." Tom clenched his fist. "We're not going to let them do that any more."

  


Janeway returned to her quarters to change for dinner. Chakotay had promised to make her a southwestern dish she had enjoyed previously, then they were joining the crew on the holodeck. As she crossed her bedroom, something caught her eye. 

There was a rose on her pillow. She knew for a fact that Chakotay hadn't put it there. First of all, he wouldn't dare, especially under the current circumstances. And secondly, he knew she wasn't planning on sleeping here tonight. Yet who but Chakotay had given her a rose in the past six years? What was going on? 

The name Q floated through her mind. No, too subtle, she decided. If Q were around it wouldn't be a single rose, and it certainly wouldn't be pink. If Q wanted to woo her with flowers there would be hundreds, if not thousands, of red roses in her quarters. No, probably not in her quarters, she realized. Q would deliver them to the bridge. 

Then again, maybe Q knew what she expected of him by now. She tapped her combadge. "Janeway to Tuvok." 

"I have a security issue to discuss. Can you come to my quarters?" 

Everyone in the mess hall tensed upon hearing the captain's voice through Tuvok's combadge. They were busted. Frantic glances were exchanged. 

"On my way, Captain." Tuvok stood to leave. He made brief eye contact with Tom, who had to struggle not to flinch. Then he was gone. 

"I'm guessing she knows the flower isn't from Chakotay," Harry said. 

"What did she do, question him?" Tom asked. "How could she possibly know?" 

"She knows him too well," B'Elanna said. "We obviously got some detail wrong." 

"Perhaps we are jumping to conclusions," Seven said. "It may not be the flower. There very well may be a real security issue." 

"In the captain's quarters?" Tom asked. "That would be a pretty big coincidence." 

"So whose security code is Tuvok going to find?" B'Elanna looked at Harry, who stared at the ceiling. 

"Mine?" She didn't sound particularly angry, just surprised. "You used my code in the transporter log?" 

"Not yours," Lyssa said. "I used Kirk's." 

"What?" 

"Who?" 

Lyssa grinned. "Kirk. As in Captain James T." 

"How the targ..." 

Harry was now grinning as well. "Tell them." 

"After my Kobayashi Maru I was told that Kirk had been the only cadet in Academy history to defeat the scenario. Naturally, I was curious. In the course of my investigation, I just happened to stumble upon his security code. I never thought I'd get the chance to use it for anything, and, well, I just couldn't resist." 

"This ought to be good," the Doctor muttered. "I can't imagine what Tuvok will make of that." 

"Maybe he'll just think that James Kirk is sending the captain flowers," Tom said. "It's possible." 

"Hardly likely," B'Elanna replied. "Now how are we going to deal with this?" 

"Deal with what?" Chakotay asked. He had just entered the mess hall in order to talk Neelix out of some tomatoes. Upon noticing the gathering, he had wandered over to join the discussion. Now he was wondering about the startled way everyone was staring at him. "What, have I grown an extra head?" 

"Sorry, Commander, we didn't see you come in," Harry said. "I guess we were kind of caught up in our discussion." 

"I don't exactly require a salute," Chakotay answered, still confused. "Don't let me interrupt. I just came for some tomatoes." 

While Neelix hustled to fetch the first officer's produce, Tom made a desperate attempt to discuss some difficulties he was having with his latest holoprogram. Everyone prayed that Chakotay hadn't overheard anything, and they all put forth great effort to feign interest in what Tom was now saying. 

By the time Chakotay left, he had decided that far too many members of the crew were starting to suffer from holo addiction.

  


When the captain arrived at Chakotay's quarters he greeted her with a picnic basket. 

"Half the crew is in the mess hall listening to Tom ramble on about that holoprogram he's building." Chakotay smiled wickedly. "I think if we hurry we could probably beat them to holodeck two and get in some time on Lake George." 

She returned his smile. "You're on." 

They hurried to the holodeck, enjoying the guilty euphoria of schoolchildren playing hooky. 

"How long do we have?" She knew that Neelix had to have some sort of evening entertainment planned, probably in the holodeck. 

"Almost an hour. Then it will no doubt be time to once again relive the twentieth century." 

She laughed. "Then we'd better eat quickly."

  


"Do you think he heard anything?" Harry asked. "How long was he standing there?" 

"If he'd heard anything incriminating, he wouldn't have announced himself. He would have listened longer." Tom hoped desperately that his reasoning was sound. 

B'Elanna sighed. "I hope you're right. So what do we do now?" 

"What can we do? We wait."

  


Tuvok was puzzled. His first inclination upon seeing the source of the captain's concern was to question the first officer. He was, after all, no more blind than the rest of the crew. However, he realized that the captain would have dismissed that possibility before calling him. Asking her to verify that would be acknowledging something best left alone. 

Scans of the captain's quarters indicated that she and Chakotay were the only two people to have entered the bedroom for some time. Years, perhaps. 

If the flower had been carried into the room, there were only two possible suspects among the crew. Chakotay, whose cellular residue was present, and the Doctor, who would have left none. 

The security officer might have wondered what the first officer's cellular residue was doing in the captain's bed, but he decided that there was probably a logical explanation and pushed it out of his mind as irrelevant. It was at least several days old, after all, and the flower was not. He decided to check the transporter logs.

  


Janeway and Chakotay ate their picnic dinner while watching the sun set over Lake George. It was a custom they usually saved for unwinding after a particularly harrowing adventure. 

"Too bad we don't have any champagne," Chakotay said. 

"What would we be celebrating? It's been weeks since we last cheated death." 

He chuckled. "You say that like it's a bad thing. We should be celebrating the fact that there isn't anyone trying to kill us right now." 

"You're probably right." For a moment, she considered mentioning the flower in her quarters. She decided the mystery would keep until later. 

He noticed her pensive look, and remembered her troubled expression at the science station earlier. "Want to tell me about it?" 

"What?" 

"Whatever was bothering you on the bridge this afternoon," he replied softly. He laid his hand over hers and caught her eye. 

She smiled at him. "Working at the science station reminded me of my time on the Al-Batani. Then my mind started to wander." 

"And you started wondering what would have happened if you had married Justin," Chakotay said, making her look at him in surprise. 

"How do you do that?" She studied his face, then decided to share at least some of her earlier thoughts. "He would have joined the Maquis the very moment that the Cardassian Demilitarized Zone was established. I was thinking about what I would have done." 

"You would have stayed with Starfleet." Chakotay stated the fact as if it was etched in latinum. "But I can't imagine any man being foolish enough to leave you." 

They sat staring at each other for a long minute, neither able to think of a safe response to his statement. To their mutual relief, the computer chose that moment to remind them that their holodeck time was about to expire. 

"Time to once again explore the twentieth century's vision of the future," Chakotay said softly.

  


"The captain and Chakotay are in there," Tom announced in shock. He turned to B'Elanna and the others. "What should we do?" 

No one had time to respond. The captain and first officer strolled out into the corridor to greet the small crowd. 

"Just having dinner." Chakotay held up the picnic basket as if evidence was necessary. "Now what's on the agenda for this evening?" 

"I thought another pool tournament might be in order," Tom said. "I'm hoping for another chance to beat our fearless captain." 

"Why don't you challenge Tuvok to a game of kal-toh?" Chakotay quipped. "You'll have about the same luck." 

Tom suddenly had a flash of inspiration. "Well, maybe I can't beat her, but I'm sure I can take you, Commander." 

"Is that so? Why don't we see about that." 

"Care to make it interesting? I'm a little short on replicator rations but I'm sure we can think of something." 

"I know that look. What are you thinking?" 

Tom grinned. "How about we play for a kiss?" 

"What are you suggesting, Tom, because I'm certainly not interested in kissing you, and I somehow doubt that's what you had in mind." 

Tom looked around the room. "Well, I'm sure one of these lovely ladies would be willing to lend a hand. I'm thinking that the captain might like to volunteer. Two handsome guys like us, she'd win either way." He threw the captain an exaggerated wink. "What do you say, Captain? Feeling lucky?" 

"How could I refuse such a charming proposition, Lieutenant? It's so very...Neanderthal." She stepped towards him, invading his personal space. Her hand came to rest on his chest, making him gulp. She lowered her voice seductively and leaned even closer. "If you win, Mister Paris, rest assured that B'Elanna will have very good reason to skin you alive." 

Having immensely enjoyed Tom's extreme discomfort, she turned to Chakotay and treated him to a smile that made his toes curl. "Good luck, Commander."

  


Chakotay's head was spinning. He didn't know what to make of the situation at all. On one hand, Kathryn was the only one on board who could beat Tom at pool. On the other hand, he had no idea what mischief Paris really had planned, and feared he would throw the game. 

A kiss from Kathryn might be his fondest wish, but the potential consequences were too great. They were having enough trouble keeping their relationship in balance, especially recently. 

But Kathryn no doubt planned to peck him on the cheek and retreat, if he managed to win. What she might have planned for Tom was another matter, however, and Chakotay wasn't sure he liked that at all. 

He had seen the way the handsome blond pilot looked at the captain, and while he knew he had nothing to fear, especially now that Tom was seriously involved with B'Elanna, he still couldn't completely purge his jealous instincts. He had no desire to watch Kathryn kiss anyone, especially Tom Paris, under any circumstances.

  


As Tom racked up the balls, Janeway went to stand beside B'Elanna. "Permission to make Tom squirm?" 

The chief engineer grinned. "Granted."

  


Tom moved to break as he pondered the issue of exactly how jealous to make the first officer. Janeway stepped into his line of sight, caught his eye, and slowly licked her lips. His hand slipped and not a single ball managed to find a pocket.

  


The captain stood back to watch Chakotay take his shot. While not as talented with a pool cue as herself or Tom, the first officer was good. Janeway had confidence in his ability to win, as long as she kept Tom distracted.

  


The first officer pocketed a few balls, then missed. Tom moved to line up a shot, then nearly jumped out of his skin as he felt the captain's hot breath on his neck. "I don't like to be disappointed, Tom. But that won't happen, will it?" 

He missed.

  


Pleased with herself, Janeway again backed off as Chakotay played. To her relief, he managed to clear the table. 

The captain sauntered up to Tom. "I'm sorry, Mister Paris. Did I make you nervous? Perhaps I owe you an apology." She smiled wickedly. "A consolation prize, perhaps?" 

He was actually backing away from her. "Don't play with fire, Lieutenant," she whispered. "You'll get burned." 

"Yes, ma'am," he replied, his face a deep crimson. 

The captain turned away from Tom, satisfied. Perhaps he would think twice before pulling such a stunt again. She caught B'Elanna's eye and found her laughing. "Now I believe I have a prize to award." 

Janeway and Chakotay stepped up to one another. They keenly felt the crew's eyes upon them as they stood staring at one another for a long moment. They were trapped. Backing down now would reveal too much. 

She wanted very desperately to really kiss him, thoroughly and soundly. She longed to explore his mouth with her tongue, tangling it with his. She ached to run her fingers through his hair. 

Her hands slid slowly up his chest and around his neck. His found her waist, pulling her snugly up against him. She stood on tiptoe and drew his head down to hers, her fingers in his hair. Their lips met. 

The kiss was soft, chaste, affectionate yet undemanding, neither brief nor lingering, and a powerful experience for both parties. Her knees actually went weak. His heart froze in his chest. They hung on to one another for a moment as their lips separated, eyes closed, normal breathing a struggle. They moved apart. 

Janeway was far from recovered, but she possessed the acting skills of a trained Starfleet captain. To her own later amazement, she managed to turn around and needle Tom some more. 

"It seems that the best man won, Mister Paris. Better luck in the future." With that, she sauntered out of Sandrine's and headed for the turbolift.

  


Once Chakotay had managed to gather his senses enough to follow her, the rest of the crowd turned to a triumphant Tom Paris. 

"Impressive," Harry exclaimed. "All you had to do was humiliate yourself." He snickered. "You didn't pocket a single ball." 

"I think you're lucky Chakotay cleared the table when he did," B'Elanna said. "I can't imagine what she would have done next." 

"I'm more interested in what she's doing now." Tom couldn't keep from grinning. "Do you think we accomplished anything lasting?" 

"Too soon to tell," Lyssa said. "But I'm guessing that now would be a good time to redouble our efforts." 

"Agreed," Tom said. "Tuvok will probably be on to us by morning. If he comes to any of you, send him my way. I think I can buy us another night or two. We'll have to make them count."

  


Chakotay was mildly surprised when Kathryn strolled into his quarters. He had rather expected that she'd hide from him for a while, under the circumstances. 

She said nothing, but she joined him on the couch, book in hand. They sat in silence, each lost in their own thoughts as they pretended to read.

  



	4. Chapter 4

### Day Seventeen

James T. Kirk had certainly not been in Voyager's transporter room the previous day. So as far as Tuvok was concerned, there was only one logical explanation for the presence of his security code in the log. Tom Paris had to be the culprit. 

Tuvok decided to see if the captain would draw the same conclusion, and once the alpha shift was well under way he headed for her ready room.

  


"Have you solved last evening's mystery?" 

"Perhaps." 

"Well?" 

Tuvok was expressionless. "I have found a record in the transporter log which explains the flower's arrival in your quarters." 

"Whose security code was used?" 

"According to our logs, the rose was sent by Captain James T. Kirk." Tuvok delivered the improbable information as if he was reciting the periodic table. 

"Well, I think it's safe to rule him out. Do you have a suspect?" She watched his impassive face. "Never mind. Do me a favor and try not to hurt Tom too badly."

  


Tom knew what was coming. He waited, tense but determined. 

"Mister Paris, may I have a word with you?" Tuvok asked politely. 

"Certainly, Tuvok." He indicated the seat across from him. 

Tuvok hesitated briefly, preferring to speak in a less public part of the ship. With a glance around the empty mess hall, he decided that this would do. 

"Mister Paris, I am curious as to what you were trying to accomplish with the transporter last evening. Would you care to enlighten me?" 

"I was trying to give the captain a little nudge. I was hoping she would think the flower was from Chakotay." 

"To what end?" 

"They belong together. It's time she stopped denying her feelings. You may not have noticed, but the captain and Chakotay care very deeply for one another, yet they are holding back." 

"I have shared a mind meld with Captain Janeway. I am well aware of her feelings for Commander Chakotay. I support her belief that it would be inappropriate to act upon those emotions." 

"How can you say that?" Tom asked incredulously. "She's your friend. Don't you want her to be happy?" 

Tuvok argued his position with typical Vulcan calm. "The captain will be happy when this ship is safely back home. Nothing which inhibits her ability to perform her duties in the meantime will result in her happiness." 

"And how will a relationship with Chakotay inhibit her duties, exactly? Do you doubt their ability to have a relationship and still run this ship? Do you think that B'Elanna runs engineering any less efficiently now that she and I are a couple? I don't see the difference." 

"Captain Janeway is in a position of command. It would not be appropriate for her to carry on an affair with a subordinate." 

Tom snorted. "Affair? Come on, Tuvok. It would hardly be that." 

"I did not intend to trivialize the nature of their emotions. But my argument is the same. A romance would not be appropriate." 

"Almost every member of this crew is part of the chain of command. By your logic, no one on board can be involved in a relationship, because someone would always outrank their partner." 

"Starfleet protocol does not interfere with the personal lives of the crew. The captain is expected to maintain a higher standard." 

Tom nearly exploded. "A double standard, you mean. Why should she be miserable? Even if I agreed with the protocol, I would still think an exception could be made in this case. We're a long way from Federation space." 

"The rules do not apply any less just because of distance." 

"That isn't what I meant, and you know it. By asking the captain to obey protocol, you are condemning her to a very lonely life. This little pleasure cruise of ours could last another thirty years." 

"I am condemning the captain to nothing. I am not asking her to obey protocol, I am simply supporting her decision to do so." 

"It's the same thing, Tuvok." How could he get this across? "Your opinion would sway her. I know it would." 

"Perhaps you are correct, Mister Paris, although I am not ready to agree with you. I do admit that the matter might require further thought. I will not report your activities to the captain at this time, and I will consider your words carefully." 

"Thank you, Tuvok," Tom replied. It was the best he could have expected, under the circumstances.

  


Janeway had forgotten all about the rose on her pillow until Tuvok had appeared in her ready room. Briefly, she tried to wonder what Tom had been trying to accomplish, but she just didn't care. 

It had been more than twelve hours since she had kissed Chakotay on the holodeck, and she had yet to recover. Dimly she recalled throwing one final barb in Tom's direction as she left the holodeck. 

Then, alone in the turbolift, she had slumped back against the wall, able to think of nothing else aside from the softness of those lips, the feel of him, the taste of him after all these years. Her hips and waist burned where his hands had held her. Her heart raced and her entire body thrummed with arousal. 

It had only been a kiss, she had told herself. A brief, gentle kiss, almost chaste, barely lingering. But it hadn't been only anything. It had been soul shaking. She could have made love to Mark and felt less. Poor Mark. She was suddenly very glad to know he had married someone else. He was a nice guy, after all. He deserved to be more than her safety net. 

And what of Chakotay...just the sound of his name in her thoughts sent a thrilling jolt of electricity down her spine. She shivered, and tried to gain control of her thoughts. Chakotay, what did he deserve? More than she could give him. 

It frightened her to realize just how close she had been to deepening that kiss. She could have lost control completely, even in front of the crew. She easily could have gone too far, and lost the closest friendship she had ever known. 

She had leaned against the wall in that turbolift, desire coursing through every cell in her body, and wondered how she would ever face him the next morning. Then she had realized that she couldn't wait until morning. If she waited, that wall would spring up again. A wall of her own creation, not his, but it would happen. 

The memory of the distance between them after New Earth had risen in her mind, and she knew that she needed to see Chakotay, her friend, now, before she sat beside her first officer in the morning. She couldn't let herself hurt him like that again. 

So she had gone to his quarters. She had sat on his couch, pretending to read and thinking of nothing except the kiss they had shared. She had said nothing. Words would have complicated the issue. Her message required nothing more than her presence. 

The captain would not have come to sit on his couch, but she, Kathryn, needed to be there. So neither had spoken, even when they had finally gone to bed, to sleep side by side with Chakotay's quilt barrier between them. They were still not lovers, but they were still friends. 

Now, she sat alone in her ready room, wanting him, desperately. She was glad she had gone to him the night before, that she had managed to maintain that which currently passed as normalcy between them. Else, she would have feared that the only mask beneath which she could hide her desire was that of cold indifference. 

She had to move past this. She had to gain control. He didn't deserve cold indifference. Again she cringed at the pain she had caused him after New Earth. He had given her his heart on that planet. He had exposed his very soul to her. And she had told him to check on a problem with the prefire chamber temperature in the phaser array. And what had he done with her slap in the face? Accepted it, quietly and without complaint. He had checked with phaser maintenance, reported back to her, and continued with his unwavering support. 

He was always there, giving everything, tolerating anything, demanding nothing. Just like now. He was sitting out there on the bridge, patiently waiting until she was ready to talk to him. 

Dinner. They would be having dinner, later. Was it her turn to cook, or his? Cook. Silly word. Replicate. That was more accurate. She focused on that, and tried to push the kiss out of her mind. 

Why had she kissed him? Why hadn't she just pecked him on the cheek? Because she had wanted to kiss him, she admitted, and so she had let the circumstances push her into it. 

What had been wrong with her lately? Ordinarily, she and Chakotay had an efficient and well balanced working relationship enhanced by a close friendship. Something had thrown it off recently. The long managed sexual tension kept making plays for the upper hand, interfering with the ease of both their professional relationship and their friendship. The attraction had always been present, but as strong as it was, it had never been such a strain before. 

Part of it was the fact that she hadn't had to make a single command decision in more than two weeks. While that in itself certainly wasn't rare, the difference was the fact that in all likelihood this would continue for nearly six months. Uncomfortable with that fact, she leaned on him, perhaps unreasonably. 

And now she had kissed him, and she feared that without some distraction she would think of nothing else for the next six months.

  


Chakotay sat on the bridge and tried not to stare at the ready room door. He tried to focus on his console, or on the blank viewscreen, rather than on the empty chair to his right. 

He was still surprised that she had come to his quarters the night before. She had done it to quell his fear, to prove that she wouldn't hide behind her captain's mask because of the kiss, and he was fiercely grateful for that. 

The kiss. Again he remembered the intoxicating effects of her lips. Again he felt her fingers sliding through his hair. Again he felt her body, pressed against his. He forced aside the desire to storm through the ready room doors and kiss her breathless. He ignored the urge to march down to astrometrics to personally search fruitlessly for a wormhole to the alpha quadrant. 

Voyager had plenty of sophisticated equipment constantly searching for spatial anomalies. They had even adopted Borg technology for the purpose. Astrometrics did not require his assistance, and he couldn't bring a wormhole into existence by pure force of will. 

The kiss. His mind returned to it for the thousandth time. He wanted to kiss her again, properly. Deeply. And without an audience. That couldn't happen on this ship. That couldn't even happen in this part of the galaxy. That could only happen thirty thousand light years away, in Federation space. 

Here, in the Delta Quadrant, he had to demonstrate restraint. He could do that, he told himself. He could regain control over his own desire and get through the evening without kissing her. He'd been doing that for six years. He just hoped he wouldn't have to do it for thirty more.

  


Tom was frantic. Tonight was the last chance. He knew it. Tuvok might not tell the captain about recent events, but he would certainly not allow them to continue. Tuvok would do one of two things. He would either order the crew to end their current undertaking, or he would march himself into the ready room and offer his straightforward advice. Either way, it meant tonight was the last opportunity. 

Drastic plans flew through Tom's mind. Were there any airborne aphrodisiacs? Could clothing really be captured in the pattern buffer? Was there some memory that the command team shared that might spark something? He raced out of the mess hall and headed for deck four, suddenly intent upon studying the alleged bathtub in cargo bay one.

  


Harry stood at the ops station and watched Chakotay stare at the ready room door. He wished he knew the outcome of Tom's discussion with Tuvok. At any moment the security chief could step out of the turbolift and descend upon the command deck. Or worse yet, he could go into the ready room and explain the situation to the captain. 

At all costs, that should be prevented. Harry promised himself that if Tuvok made for the ready room, he would stop him. Even if it meant a confrontation. If the captain had to learn of the crew's recent project, it was probably best that she heard it from Chakotay. Or perhaps from Tom. But Harry was fairly certain that having the captain hear about her own love life in Tuvok's security report would not bode well for anyone.

  


B'Elanna raced around engineering, treating routine maintenance like mid-battle repairs. Wasn't Tom done with Tuvok yet? She considered a trip to the mess hall. Then she considered a trip to the bridge. 

If all hell was about to break loose, didn't Chakotay deserve a heads up? As his friend, didn't she owe it to him to let him know what had been going on before Tuvok explained it to the captain? 

Five more minutes, she decided. Then she was going to go find Tom. In the meantime, she grabbed a hyperspanner and crawled under a console.

  


Tuvok headed back to his quarters. He needed some time alone to think about the captain's situation. Would she be happier if she changed her relationship with Chakotay? And if so, did he dare interfere? 

For once, he didn't see the logical answer immediately. But human emotions rarely conformed to logic. Tom had made some valid points, and they required further examination. He decided that meditation was in order.

  


The Doctor paced around sickbay. Was anyone going to let him know the result of Tom's talk with Tuvok? He almost wished that his ethics as a physician would allow him to tell the captain of the commander's recent dreams. 

Perhaps he could trick the couple into thinking that one of them had contracted a rare disease curable only by copulation. Damn his ethical subroutines. Then again, the captain was a scientist. She'd recognize the absurdity of any such subterfuge.

  


Tal Celes was trying desperately to focus on her work. It was enough of a challenge to avoid mistakes without having to fight against her preoccupation with recent developments. 

She was beginning to wonder whether the captain's reluctance to pursue a relationship was entirely due to protocol. Perhaps she feared that changing her relationship with Chakotay would endanger their friendship. If that was the case, then perhaps she had more in common with Janeway than she ever would have guessed.

  


Seven of Nine was uncharacteristically nervous. Twice now, she had double checked all of the systems in astrometrics. She had even cross referenced several readings with the more conventional systems in stellar cartography. 

Finally impatient with waiting, she turned to Tal Celes. "Please report to the mess hall and find out what has transpired between Lieutenant Paris and Commander Tuvok. Inform me of your findings immediately. I will be in sickbay." 

Startled out of her own thoughts, the young Bajoran shot her a look of surprise, but scurried off without a word. Seven must be worried; Celes had never heard her use the word please before.

  


Neelix tried to remain as unobtrusive as possible while he strained to hear what Tuvok and Tom were saying. He struggled to contain his sigh of relief when Tuvok agreed not to go talk to the captain. 

After Tom raced out without a word, Neelix considered his own next move. It was pretty clear that regardless of what Tuvok decided, they were all going to be out of time fairly soon. Tuvok would not let the game continue, but would instead prefer the direct approach.

  


Samantha Wildman could barely concentrate on her work at the science station. She had absolutely nothing to do, and was occupied primarily with watching the first officer. And since all Chakotay had done all day was stare at the ready room door, he really hadn't been that interesting to observe. 

She hoped that everything would work out soon, for all of their sakes.

  


Ensign Henley sat at the conn, feeling restless and unnecessary. Voyager was flying a straight line through empty space. Even Naomi would have been bored at the helm. 

She wondered what was going through Chakotay's mind. Like everyone else, she knew about the kiss at Sandrine's. And judging from the fact that the captain hadn't emerged from her ready room all day, she was guessing that the kiss hadn't magically transformed the commanding officers into lovers. 

Hadn't either one of them managed to read between the lines the other night? Every single former Maquis had managed to mention that they weren't particularly afraid of a stay in a Federation rehabilitation colony. Numerous crewmembers had made references to the value of love. Ensign Campbell had practically spelled out the need to sometimes bend the rules. How could they make it plainer before Tuvok put an end to their efforts?

  


Ensign Jenkins was really starting to question the value of standing at the tactical console. Absolutely nothing was happening. Watching the first officer stare blankly at the ready room doors was uninspiring. Watching the ops officer stare blankly at the first officer was even less interesting. Why wasn't anyone at least chatting? She answered her own question. It was because everyone except Chakotay was tensely awaiting Tuvok's return.

  


Lyssa Campbell was alone in transporter room one, and she wasn't particularly happy about it. She wanted to know what had transpired between Tom and Tuvok. She also wanted to know what was happening on the bridge. Were Captain Janeway and Chakotay acting normally? Perhaps something had changed. She hoped that something had happened, because she feared that Tuvok would make them all stop pushing. 

She hated waiting. It was going to be a long shift.

  


Joe Carey had come to greatly respect Lieutenant Torres over the last six years. She was the best engineer he had ever seen, and he enjoyed working under her command. But today he was really wishing that she'd go elsewhere for the day. 

There was nothing quite like an agitated half-Klingon. In the middle of a crisis, B'Elanna's ingenuity and efficiency were inspiring. But today was not such a day. Everyone was already on edge and the chief was not helping. Joe found himself almost as anxious to hear from Tom as was B'Elanna, and not just because he wanted to know what Tuvok had said to him.

  


Vorik had heard humans say that the only emotion Vulcans ever expressed was annoyance. Today, Vorik was contemplating a number of emotions, sympathy for Commander Chakotay's plight not being the least of them. 

Had he remained on Vulcan, Vorik would have entered an arranged marriage when he experienced pon farr. He never would have had to pursue a mate. But having gone through pon farr while in the Delta Quadrant, he possessed an understanding of romantic frustrations that few Vulcans knew. 

Now, he was debating as to whether it might be wise to go speak with Tuvok and share the knowledge gained in that experience. Ordinarily, there was nothing a Vulcan hated more than discussing emotions in general and pon farr in particular, but this was a special case.

  


Chell was wishing that he was back in security, rather than engineering. Not that the flurry of activity wasn't a pleasant distraction, but if he were on a security detail today he might have already learned the outcome of Tom's expected confrontation with Tuvok. As it was, he was still waiting for news.

  


Garan had never been a particular fan of Starfleet protocol. He had certainly not relinquished his traditional Bajorin earring lightly. Over the years, he had learned to follow the rules, and had even come to respect the ideals they represented. But as for blind adherence to pointless regulations? Well, he hoped that the captain and commander saw reason soon. He waited impatiently for word from the mess hall.

  


Naomi Wildman jumped up, startled, when someone entered the cargo bay. Tom didn't notice her at first, and began to examine various storage devices. 

"What are you looking for, Lieutenant?" she asked, half hoping to startle him as well. "Maybe I can help." 

"Maybe you can. I'm looking for a big crate that was stored in here about four years ago." 

"Oh, you mean the captain's bathtub," Naomi answered brightly. "It's over here." 

Tom grinned as the little girl led him to the object he was seeking. It suddenly occurred to him that Naomi, being a child, might very well know some things that no one else on board did. 

"So how did you know I was looking for the bathtub?" Tom asked. 

Naomi shrugged. "It's the only big thing in here that could have been here that long. Why were you looking for the captain's bathtub?" 

"I was just curious. Do you know where it came from?" 

"Commander Chakotay built it." 

Tom was mildly shocked. "How do you know that?" 

"Captain Janeway told me. She said he did it to cheer her up when they were stranded and thought that they'd never see Voyager again." Naomi seemed to be thinking hard. "Do you want to know what I think?" 

Tom nodded. 

"I think that Captain Janeway should tell Commander Chakotay that she loves him. I know all forty-seven suborders of the Prime Directive and all of the Starfleet General Orders. None of them say that the captain can't fall in love. I know she thinks she can't, but that just isn't fair." 

"You're right," Tom said. "It's not a law, it's just a silly guideline written for very different circumstances." He thought for a moment. "Does Commander Chakotay know this is here?" 

"I'm pretty sure he doesn't. Captain Janeway asked me not to tell him. She said he'd think she was being sentimental or something." 

Tom snorted, then laughed when Naomi rolled her eyes in agreement. A thought crossed his mind. "We should beam it onto the bridge." 

"No offense, but I think that's a really bad idea." 

"Don't you see? If Chakotay sees this, then he'll know she kept it. He'll know that it meant something to her." 

Naomi looked doubtful. "Maybe, but wouldn't they wonder what it was doing on the bridge?" 

"They don't know that I know where this came from. I'll give them a line about the Golgafrincham B Ark..." Tom was thinking now. 

"I think you should ask Lieutenant Torres what she thinks first," Naomi advised, wise beyond her years.

  


Neelix was alone in the mess hall when Celes arrived. He greeted her cheerfully. "Good timing! They just left. It looks like Tom managed to buy us those couple of days. Tuvok promised to give the matter some thought." 

"Good." The flower had been her idea and the guilt was driving her crazy. "I'd better report back to Seven." She paused for a moment. "Neelix?" 

"Yes?" 

She hesitated. "Do you think everyone on board will eventually pair off?" 

"I don't think you can predict love. And not everyone is going to want to pair off. Samantha has a husband back home. Tuvok, Ayala, and Carey all have families as well. Why do you ask?" 

"It just seems that everybody has someone. The captain and Commander Chakotay. Lieutenants Paris and Torres. Seven and the Doctor. Harrison and Mannick. I even heard that Chell is seeing Megan Delaney." 

Neelix chuckled. "I don't think that one will stand the test of time." 

"Well..." She turned to go. "I'd better go spread the news." 

"Celes?" 

"Yes?" 

"Whoever he is, tell him." Neelix grinned. "Don't make us go through a fiasco like this again."

  


"Tom, we are not transporting that..." B'Elanna gestured at the tub, "...onto the bridge. Honestly, how would you explain that?" 

"I was thinking I'd say something about the Golgafrincham B Ark," he answered reasonably, as if that made perfect sense. 

"The what?" Lyssa asked. 

"Don't even bother," B'Elanna said. "I'm sure it has something to do with some twentieth century film." 

"Book, actually," Tom clarified. "And we have to do something. We might only have a few hours left." 

"And you want to waste them by installing a bathtub on the bridge?" 

"I didn't say we needed to fill it up. I just want Chakotay to see it." 

"Then call him down here." 

"Oh, that would be real subtle." 

"And beaming it onto the bridge would be?"

  


Chakotay was actually nervous as he programmed dinner. He hadn't talked to Kathryn all day. In fact, they hadn't spoken to one another since the kiss on the holodeck. The peace of mind he had gained from her presence on his couch the previous evening was starting to dissipate. 

Why had he kissed her? He could have ruined everything. She wouldn't blame him, he knew. He wasn't afraid she'd be angry. But he was furious with himself, and not just for the kiss itself. It had happened. He should have been able to come to terms with the event. Instead, all he could think about was how much he wanted to do it again. 

One taste of those lips was not enough, could never be enough, as he had always known. The struggle to wait until the Alpha Quadrant would be harder now. Each day would be a battle for self control. 

Right now, the challenge was dinner. A pleasant dinner with Kathryn, his closest friend. Hardly an unusual event, he reminded himself. They had eaten dinner yesterday. A picnic dinner on Lake George, no less. The thought struck him that perhaps the dinner conversation had been a bit too intimate; that it had somehow contributed to the kiss. 

No, he couldn't let himself think like that. If he did, he'd be second guessing every word he said to her. And he would not let this friendship become awkward and strained. It meant far too much to them both. 

The door chimed and his stomach somersaulted. He suddenly envied Tuvok's control. "Come." 

He was not in any way prepared for the vision of loveliness that greeted him. "That's the suit you wore in Los Angeles," he blurted. He had expected a uniform. Why had he expected a uniform? 

"It wasn't my idea." She sounded apologetic. "The Doctor asked me to dress for late twentieth century Earth." She shrugged. "Who am I to argue?"

  


Janeway was shocked that he remembered the suit. She hadn't thought of it until the Doctor had mentioned it. And even then she hadn't clearly recalled what it looked like. It crossed her mind that Chakotay might possibly remember every single time he had ever seen her out of uniform. She wondered if she should feel guilty for finding that flattering. 

"So we're heading for the holodeck after dinner?" he asked. 

"If you're interested," she answered, suddenly cautious. She was relieved when he smiled. 

"Always."

  


"Okay, Captain," Tom said. "Your character is simple. You're a scientific minded FBI agent, and Chakotay here is your dashing partner. He wants to investigate every wild story he hears. You're the skeptical one." 

"FBI?" 

"Federal Bureau of Investigation." 

"So we're spies?" 

"Not quite. But the same basic idea." 

"And what are we supposed to be doing here?" She gestured to the restaurant scene around them. 

"Meeting your contact. Your goal in this scenario is to solve the mystery before it makes the newspapers." 

"I see. And what role are you playing?" 

Tom grinned. "I'm a member of the press. So are Harry, the Doctor, and Neelix." 

Chakotay nodded. "Who else is playing?" 

"Seven is the sexy, mysterious mercenary with the heart of gold." Tom laughed. "You should see the effect she's having on the Doc. But I can't give away too much." With that, he disappeared. 

Their contact, a wild eyed teenager with hair down to his waist, arrived only minutes later. "I was followed," he explained frantically. "We have to get out of here." 

They let the character lead them out of the restaurant and into a dimly lit, filthy concrete structure full of old-time gasoline powered automobiles. 

"This looks like a bad place to be surrounded," Janeway muttered. 

Predictably, gunshots rang out in the night. The contact, whispering frantically about UFO conspiracies and alien embryos, shoved an envelope into Chakotay's hand and bolted. Janeway pulled at the door handle on the nearest car. 

"I think you'll find it's locked," a menacing voice drawled. "Now get your hands where I can see them." 

The pair did as they were instructed, exchanging an annoyed glance as they did so. Five minutes into the game and they were already prisoners. 

Their captor was joined by three other thugs, one of which gleefully produced handcuffs and gags. Another opened the trunk of the nearest car. 

"I bet Paris thinks this is funny," Chakotay grumbled under his breath. 

"Isn't it?" Janeway asked with unmistakable sarcasm. She was seriously questioning the value of being a good sport. 

"Shut up," growled a thug. Gags were tied in place. "Get in the trunk." 

Wearily, they complied. The thugs ingeniously handcuffed them to a metal protrusion on the inside of the compartment, slammed it, and disappeared. The pair was left facing each other, crowded together in the dark, confining space, with their hands secured over their heads. Bodily contact was unavoidable. 

Chakotay was stunned when Kathryn squirmed even closer. She mumbled something around the gag. 

"Whft?" he asked. 

He felt her teeth against his cheek. She was trying to free him from the gag. He held still and desperately tried to suppress his physical response to her proximity. It was nearly impossible. He was keenly aware of her body pressed against his. Her hot breath feathered over his skin and her lips slid down his jaw as she dragged the cloth away from his mouth with her teeth. 

He swallowed hard. "Thanks." His voice sounded strained. Probably best not to try to speak. He needed to remove her gag so that they could plan their escape. Had the situation posed any real danger it would have been easier to keep his mind on the task at hand. As it was, he was incredibly aware of every intimate detail. 

Janeway was concentrating very hard on her breathing, but she couldn't stop her pulse from quickening as she felt Chakotay's lips brush against her cheek. Her gag proved to be tied tighter than his. Twice he was forced to readjust his grip on the cloth. They were both breathing faster by the time she was free. 

Neither trusted their voices enough to speak. Chakotay struggled to reposition himself, trying to put some space between them. In the cramped quarters, with his hands where they were, it proved hopeless. 

Flames of desire shot through her body as he shifted against her. Their faces bumped in the darkness and her self control shattered. Her lips sought his and he didn't resist. The hunger they had both fought so valiantly to contain burst free. 

His ability to think with any level of clarity vanished as she drove her tongue into his mouth. They kissed feverishly, reveling in the taste of each other, so long imagined and so long denied. 

Desperate to touch him, to hold him, she broke the kiss long enough to gasp out an order. "Computer, delete handcuffs." 

"Unable to comply." Damn. Tom's fault, no doubt. 

"Kathryn..." His voice, barely a whisper. His breath, brushing her lips. She kissed him again, her lips lightly nibbling his before he swept his tongue into her mouth, exploring thoroughly. A moan escaped her, and she again tugged at the handcuffs. 

They both groaned in frustration. Ironic, she thought through the haze of desire. Finally, they wanted each other desperately enough to throw protocol to the wind, and they were physically restrained from even putting their arms around one another. 

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Chakotay knew that there would be consequences later, but he just couldn't make himself stop kissing her. He needed to kiss her. A phaser to his head couldn't have broken through the delirium of passion. 

It was the awkward angle, and not common sense, that finally forced them to break the kiss. The pain in their shoulders became too intense to ignore. They both shuffled around, seeking escape or at least a more comfortable position. 

"Do you have anything to pick these locks?" she asked softly. Her voice sounded strange in her ears. The words seemed to break the spell. The darkness spared them the effort of avoiding each other's eyes as they both tried to find a solution to their predicament. 

"What is this we're chained to?" he wondered aloud, examining the metal protrusion as best he could. His fingers brushed hers and they both had to fight not to react. "Here, I think I can get this loose." 

Together, they managed eventually to free the handcuffs from the trunk. But that still left them handcuffed, and to their vast annoyance they discovered that the chains were tangled through each other. They were shackled together. 

"I don't believe this," Janeway growled. 

"There has to be a way out," Chakotay reasoned. "This is a holonovel. It wouldn't include this scenario if there wasn't a way out." 

She snorted. "This is Tom Paris' holonovel," she reminded him. She illustrated her point. "Computer, delete handcuffs." 

"Unable to comply." 

"Computer, illumination twenty five percent." 

"Unable to comply." 

"Computer, is there a way out of this scenario?" 

"Please specify request." 

"Does this storage compartment open?" 

"Affirmative." 

"How?" 

Silence. 

"Computer, how does this compartment open?" 

"That information is not available." 

"I guess we do this the hard way," Janeway said. "Let's see if there's anything in here we can use."

  


"Tom?" Harry asked. 

"Jimmy," Tom corrected. 

"Whatever." He brushed a strand of the long blond wig out of his face. "Where are Chakotay and the captain?" 

"You means special agents - " 

"Stop it," Harry insisted. "Where are they?" 

Tom grinned. "In the parking garage." 

"Why do I not like the sound of that?" the Doctor asked. 

"Tom..." Harry looked his friend in the eye. "What have you done with the captain?" 

"I haven't done anything with her. But they might have run into some characters that I added to the scenario. If they did, they should be locked in the trunk of a car by now." 

Harry exploded. "Tom! Are you crazy?" 

"Look, they need some alone time." Tom was still grinning. "This was the best I could do." 

"I hardly think that's likely," the Doctor muttered. "What happened to being subtle?" 

"Subtle went out the airlock when Tuvok saw the rose. Don't worry. As car trunks go, it's a fairly roomy one. I'll let them out eventually."

  


Chakotay was making a thorough examination of the fairly roomy car trunk in question. It was empty. He couldn't find a hand lamp or tools of any kind and his frustration was beyond description. He needed to get out of this confined space before he lost control and kissed Kathryn again. 

Self loathing as he had never felt before washed over him. How could he have kissed her like that? What happened now? How were they going to deal with this situation? And why did her hair have to smell so damn good? 

His struggle to maintain some semblance of control was feeling somewhat futile, and he very much feared the consequences. Physical contact was unavoidable under the circumstances. The trunk was not big enough for two people, and even if there had been more space, they were still handcuffed together.

  


Janeway was miserable. Why had she kissed him? Where did they go from here? They couldn't be lovers. Not on the ship. Not until the Alpha Quadrant. But if she couldn't even get through twenty four hours without kissing him like that, then how were they going to last? Even now, she couldn't focus on the task before her. Thoughts of his soft lips intruded, encouraged by the proximity of his body, and interfered with her ability to find a way out of the holographic trunk. 

So much of her mental energy was diverted to the task of keeping her lips off of her first officer that she nearly didn't find the panel on the floor. 

"Chakotay," she whispered. "I think I've found something." She wondered why she had whispered. 

Together, they explored the edge of the panel. They soon discovered that it wouldn't open as long as she was lying on top of it. 

A tremendous struggle followed, as they tried to find a position that left the panel accessible without increasing their bodily contact. It was a feat they might possibly have accomplished, if not for the handcuffs. She finally conceded defeat and climbed on top of him for just long enough to pull a toolbox from the compartment. 

Torture, he thought. Cruel torture. Her body was pressed against him. Her hair was tickling his face. And then he was kissing her again, no more able to resist her lips than he was able to go without oxygen. 

He kissed her deeply, all rational thought fleeing once again. His awareness included nothing beyond this kiss as his tongue explored the recesses of her mouth. 

Janeway's control was equally shattered. She cared for nothing outside of this moment. His taste. His smell. His mouth, warm and moist. His arousal, throbbing against her. Ending this kiss was not within her capabilities. 

As Chakotay reached to stroke her hair, they were again reminded of their predicament by the irritating confinement of the handcuffs. Panting, they broke apart. 

Again? Not again! Why the hell had she kissed him again? She crawled off of him, welcoming the sharp pain when her knee banged against the toolbox. With fresh determination, she found a sharp metal implement and set about removing the handcuffs. 

Damn. Why had he done that? How could he have done that? She was never going to speak to him again. He was going to lose his best friend. What had happened to self control? 

He resisted the urge to rub her wrists when the handcuffs finally were removed. He rubbed his own instead. Kathryn jammed a tool of some sort into the trunk's locking mechanism and beat it viciously with the first hard object she found. 

The trunk popped open. 

"Computer, arch," she practically bellowed. This time, she was rewarded with cooperation. The exit appeared and she headed for her quarters without looking at Chakotay. This would not be fixed by sitting on his couch. It could only be made worse. And she needed a shower. With real water. And cold. 

Chakotay watched her leave, hating himself. He knew he wouldn't be seeing her again before morning.

  


### Day Eighteen

After a sleepless and miserable night, Janeway stepped into the turbolift. She nearly jumped out of her skin at the sight of Chakotay standing against the back wall. 

"Good morning," he greeted her cautiously. 

They eyed each other in mutual discomfort. "About last night..." she began.

  


Harry Kim hurried to catch the turbolift, then froze when he saw the two commanding officers. They both looked serious. 

"I'm sorry, Captain," he stammered. "I didn't mean to interrupt." 

Janeway turned to look at Ensign Kim. He was clearly flustered. She had a sudden, unpleasant thought. "Does this whole ship think we're lovers, Ensign?" 

Harry thought fast, then went for honesty. "No, ma'am. But we think you should be." 

Her face turned hard. Harry knew instantly that he had said the wrong thing. Unable to escape, he prepared to hold his ground. 

Chakotay felt the knot in his stomach tighten painfully. He looked up at the ceiling, unable to meet anyone's eyes without revealing emotion. 

"That's what you've all been up to, isn't it?" the captain demanded, horrified. "That explains everything. The meetings in the holodeck. The car trunk. The rose Tom sent. That ridiculous bet." 

"Yes, ma'am." He couldn't lie to her. He needed to say something. "We want you to be happy." 

She seethed at him. "This is what has disrupted this ship for the last few weeks?" 

She might have said more, but the turbolift arrived on deck one. The doors opened. 

Without a word, the captain marched across the bridge to her ready room. Chakotay followed, his heart filled with dread.

  


She stood staring out the viewport, her face carefully devoid of emotion. Only her eyes revealed the pain she was feeling. Aware that he could see through her armor, she kept her back to him as she prepared to speak. 

His desire to hold her, to offer her comfort, was almost a physical pain. It was torture, to stand by and watch her suffer like this. But he didn't dare touch her and he couldn't speak. 

Don't put up that wall, Kathryn, he begged silently. He couldn't keep the emotions out of his own face, nor could he keep tears from escaping. He had forced her to this, with his lack of control, and now she would shut him out. She would go back to shouldering the weight of the galaxy, alone. 

"Mystery solved." Bitterness slipped into her tone. "My crew has been distracted, erratic, even accident prone because I have failed to keep my professional distance." 

"Kathryn - " 

"Don't. Don't tell me it isn't my fault. It is, Chakotay. I've fantasized about us. I've led you to believe in the hope that there will be an us." The quake in her voice nearly betrayed her. She hardened her tone. "For years we've both held onto that hope. Well, that hope is gone. We can't let it continue. I can't live like this, and I can't ask you to live like this. We both have to move on with our lives. This proves it. We can't even afford friendship." 

"Kathryn - " 

"It's all or nothing, we demonstrated that very nicely last night, and so I'm afraid it has to be nothing. No more dinners. No more socializing. No more...of whatever the hell it is that we do. This ship needs a first officer more than I need a lover. Or a best friend." 

"Kathryn - " 

"Twice in two days, Chakotay!" Her mask slipped for a moment and his heart broke again. 

"I'm sorry, Kathryn." 

"No, I'm sorry." Her voice was shaking. "I've hurt you and I'm so sorry. I should have been more professional - " 

He couldn't let her blame herself for his sin. "Oh, Kathryn, it's nothing that you've done, or that you do; or it's everything, I don't know." Suddenly he just couldn't leave it all unsaid. "You are so extraordinary, so special, and so very beautiful. I love you. I'm in love with you. And I love everything about you. Your strength. Your courage. Your wisdom. Your incredible blue eyes. Your smile. The way you say my name. You can turn me on with just the look on your face when you drink a cup of coffee. So, no, there isn't any way you could avoid the effect you have on me. This isn't your fault." 

His words both touched her heart and tore at her soul. She longed for the freedom to respond in kind. But she couldn't, and she had to stop him from saying more. 

He hurried to continue before she interrupted. He knew he couldn't change her mind, and therefore he couldn't let her think this was her decision alone. 

He had to share the burden. "I understand Starfleet protocol as well as you do. I know where the boundaries belong; give me a few days, and I can do what you're asking. Not just because you are asking, but because I agree with your reasoning. Even if I wish that I didn't." 

He stood there, tears streaming down his face. How could he turn and walk away? How could he leave her standing here, alone as she had never been before? "I hope we can be friends again - " 

She cut him off. "No." She called on every shred of strength she possessed. "We can't. You are dismissed, Commander." 

He turned and left. She collapsed onto the couch, tears escaping for her own heartbreak and his. She had hurt him again.

  


Chakotay stormed into B'Elanna's quarters. "Where the hell is Paris?" 

B'Elanna looked up in shock. "Chakotay, what's - " 

"Don't you dare." His look could have cut through transparent aluminum. "Just tell me where the hell to find Paris and then stay the hell out of my sight, Lieutenant." 

Tom emerged from the bedroom. He certainly couldn't have pretended to not hear the first officer; all of deck nine had probably heard him. 

"You! What the hell is wrong with you!" Chakotay roared. He glanced at B'Elanna. "Why are you still here?" 

"These are my quarters." 

"I don't care," he thundered. "Get the hell out." 

B'Elanna left. 

Chakotay shook with anger as he faced the helmsman. "What have you done! Do you realize what this is doing to her? Do you think she didn't realize how she felt? How I felt? Do you think it hasn't been hard for her, trying to keep those emotions at bay?" 

"But if you love her - " 

"Hell yes, I love her. I love her so much it hurts. But I love her enough to wait, to respect her feelings, to be the officer and friend that she needs. And now, thanks to your juvenile antics, she's hurting because of me. I can't even go comfort her. She has to go through this alone." 

"I'm sorry, Chakotay. I thought - " 

"I know what you thought," the first officer thundered. His eyes darted around the room, looking for something to throw. But these were B'Elanna's quarters, and Tom had long ago removed anything that would serve as a projectile. "Damn you!" 

"Chakotay - " 

"I don't want to hear it." Chakotay covered the distance between them in one jump, grabbed Tom by the uniform, and slammed him back against the wall. "Damn you!" 

"What happened?" Tom tried to ask, mildly concerned for his own safety but far more interested in what had transpired between the commanding officers. 

"You happened!" Chakotay shouted, his voice barely audible over the terrific crunch of Tom's nose breaking. "Do you know what you've done?" 

Tom swallowed hard. Never had he seen Chakotay even close to this angry. He was suddenly very apprehensive about what exactly had happened. "What - ?" 

The question went unfinished when Chakotay's fist connected a second time. Tom spit a tooth into his hand as he ducked a third blow. 

Chakotay wasn't done. "She's alone because of you and your stupid games! Do you have any idea how she must feel?" 

Tom winced at the venom in Chakotay's voice. He was slammed into the wall again. "Chakotay, tell me what happened." 

"She threw me out of her life." Chakotay noticed the damage he had done to the conn officer's face and felt a stab of guilt. Killing Tom was probably not the answer. He took a calming breath. "It wasn't completely your fault. I kissed her. I slipped up and now I've lost my best friend." 

Tom knew now that they had pushed too hard. "I'm sorry," he said softly. "I really am." 

The tears in the first officer's eyes spilled down his cheeks once again. "I'm sorry, Tom. You'd better get to sickbay." 

"It can wait. How can I help?" 

"You've done enough," Chakotay answered firmly and with a touch of bitterness. "This can't be fixed. Not now. Maybe not even in this quadrant." 

"Maybe if I talk to her - " 

"No. Leave her alone. She's embarrassed enough. Don't go trying to apologize. Don't make this worse." He struggled for control of his own emotions. "I swear, Tom, if you make this any harder on her..." His menacing words trailed off and he let the threat hang in the air, undefined.

  


Tuvok was startled out of his meditation by the door chime. "Enter." 

The door slid open to reveal the tear streaked face of the first officer. 

"May I help you, Commander?" Vulcans weren't supposed to experience emotions, but something rather similar to fear was suddenly crawling around in Tuvok's gut. There was only one logical explanation for the presence of an agitated Commander Chakotay at his door; the captain must be in trouble. 

"I need a favor." Chakotay's voice was unsteady. "Kathryn and I...I mean the captain and I...well, we need a few days apart." 

"Have you had an altercation?" 

"In a manner of speaking." 

"You either have or you haven't, Commander. I don't wish to pry, but it might be helpful if I understood the situation." 

"We haven't had a disagreement, although we both have some issues to sort out. But she's upset, and I don't want her to be alone." The first officer was now battling back tears. "Tuvok, please, just make sure she's all right." 

"Commander, I am aware that you and the captain have...an attraction for one another. Would I be correct in assuming that those feelings are the source of your distress?" 

"Yes," he admitted with great reluctance. "We've had some trouble with the parameters lately. Kathryn...I mean Captain Janeway is not at fault, but we've agreed that a few days apart would be best." 

"I see." Tuvok said. "Am I to assume that you have agreed to remain friends, rather than to pursue a romantic relationship?" 

The question surprised him. "We have agreed to keep our relationship strictly professional. Kath...the captain and I will not be spending any social time together in the future." 

"Have you told her that you love her?" 

Chakotay stared at Tuvok. Even the Vulcan knew? Did everyone know? He didn't answer. 

"Perhaps you should." 

"Tuvok - " 

"She loves you." 

"I know." 

"And do you believe that she knows of your love for her?" 

"Yes." 

"I do not believe that it is logical for either of you to deny your emotions any longer, Commander." 

"Kathr...the captain doesn't wish to violate protocol. I can't change her mind, and I don't believe I should try. I have to respect her wishes." 

"Her wishes are in error. She relies upon your friendship, and she would be unwise to abandon it." 

"She won't lose my friendship." He shook his head. "Never. I'll be there for her, the instant she changes her mind." 

"Of that I have little doubt. But the captain can be an extremely stubborn woman. I suspect that she will need you before she is willing to admit it." 

"That's why I'm here," the first officer said softly. "Please, don't let her be alone. You were her friend before she ever met me. Be there for her now. And please, Tuvok, don't pressure her; I don't want her to push you away as well."

  


When neither the captain nor the first officer had moved to claim the bridge, Harry Kim had stood back from his station as well. He very much feared that it might be best to wait. Gamma shift might just need to be a little longer this morning. 

His concerns had proven well founded when the first officer emerged from the ready room. Chakotay hadn't even glanced at the command deck before entering the turbolift. His discussion with the captain had quite obviously not gone well. 

Harry had forced himself to wait a full five minutes before he, too, left the bridge. He headed for sickbay. The Doctor could summon Tom and the others while arousing the least suspicion, although it hardly seemed to matter now. They were caught.

  


B'Elanna rushed back into her quarters as soon as Chakotay left. She stared at Tom's battered face. "Kahless, Tom, what happened?" 

"He kissed her." 

"I meant what happened to your face." 

"To hell with my face. He kissed her and she threw him out." 

"What?" 

"She's not even speaking to him," Tom moaned. "My God, B'Elanna. He cried. He actually cried. I just don't know what to do." 

"Let's get to sickbay. The Doctor can fix you up and we'll figure something out." 

"We should have stopped when I saw her crying on the holodeck." Tom let himself be led to the turbolift. "What are we going to do?"

  


The Doctor and Seven jumped apart when Ensign Kim rushed into sickbay. They both read the panic on his face. "Ensign?" 

"The captain knows," he said flatly. "So does Chakotay." 

"How did that happen?" the Doctor demanded. 

"She guessed. She asked me point blank to confirm it, and I couldn't lie." 

The Doctor sighed. "After Mister Paris' less than subtle approach last night, we can hardly be surprised." 

"Tom!" Harry exclaimed as B'Elanna led a bloody Tom Paris into sickbay. 

"Well, Lieutenants, what have you done to each other this time?" the Doctor asked. He ran his tricorder over Tom. 

"It wasn't B'Elanna. It was Chakotay." 

Harry gasped. 

"I guess we don't have to ask what he thought of last night's escapade." The chief medical officer studied Tom's face. "This is the most impressive nasal fracture I've seen since Lieutenant Carey's little accident a few years back." He turned to B'Elanna. "Have you been giving lessons, Lieutenant?" 

"Funny," she said. No one laughed.

  


Janeway managed to pull herself together and summon Tuvok to the ready room. She had decided that a few days off were in order, for herself as well as for Chakotay. She needed to turn command over to the tactical officer temporarily. 

"I need a few days to myself." 

Tuvok searched her face. "Captain, you are not being logical." 

"No, I suppose I'm not." She sighed. "I'm letting my emotions get out of control - " 

He interrupted her. "On the contrary, Captain, you are attempting to deny your emotions and I do not believe that to be the logical course of action." 

She glared at her old friend, shocked. "Et tu?" 

"I understand your desire to adhere to protocol, but I no longer agree. It is time to adjust the rules, Captain." 

"Adjust the rules, Tuvok? You mean ignore regulations entirely, don't you?" 

"To quote another captain I once knew, let the regulations be damned." 

"I can't do that." She was adamant. "You know all of the reasons as well as I do. This issue is not up for debate." 

"Captain - " 

"You are dismissed." Her tone was clear. He left.

  


Ensign Campbell hurried to sickbay, somewhat worried by the tone of Harry's voice. She met Neelix in the corridor. The morale officer looked downright frightened. Wordlessly, they sprinted the remaining distance. 

"Tom! What happened to your face?" Neelix asked as they entered. 

"Chakotay happened to my face." 

"Chakotay did this?" Neelix gasped. "Chakotay? Tall fellow? With dark hair and a tattoo on his face? That Chakotay?" 

"They know, then." Lyssa didn't really need an answer. "This is not good." 

"What now?" Neelix asked. 

"Yes, what now? I was wondering that myself, Mister Paris." The Doctor loaded a hypospray and fidgeted with an osteogenic stimulator. "Now that you've pushed Chakotay over the edge what are you planning for an encore? Perhaps you could antagonize the Gandhi hologram into coming at you with a knife?" 

"We're waiting for Tuvok." Tom winced slightly as the Doctor began to repair the damage to his nose. 

The Vulcan in question entered. "I see you have spoken with Commander Chakotay." Tuvok impassively surveyed Tom's battered face. "I have just had a word with the captain." 

"And?" B'Elanna prompted. 

"Both she and Commander Chakotay have decided to take some time off. She has turned command over to me until further notice." He paused, studying the faces around him. He seemed to make a decision. "After much thought, I came to the conclusion that the captain and commander would be best served if they stopped denying the feelings they have for one another. I offered them both my advice. Unfortunately, they both chose to disregard it." 

A miserable silence settled upon the group. 

"What can we do?" Tom asked at last. 

"I don't think there is anything we can do, Mister Paris." Then Tuvok surprised them all. "Although I am open to suggestions."

  


After speaking with Tuvok, Chakotay returned to his quarters. They felt big and empty. Kathryn's book still sat where she had left it on the couch. He stared at it for a moment, then headed into the bedroom. 

He flung himself onto the bed. He hated the thought of Kathryn suffering alone in her ready room. Worse, it was his fault. He had sworn to protect her, and now he had caused her pain. 

He wanted to go to her. He wanted to comfort her. His mind desperately tried to find a way to help her. He belonged by her side, easing her burdens, not adding to them. 

The pillow she had been using lay beside him. He reached for it and clutched it to him. And once again, the tears began to flow.

  


With a display of fury that would have made B'Elanna Torres proud, Janeway flung the nearest padd at the wall. Why the hell couldn't everyone have left well enough alone? 

She had trusted her crew, and she was deeply wounded by their behavior. They all knew of the protocol; surely they wouldn't think that she would disobey it? Tuvok's betrayal was especially painful. Now she had lost her two closest friends, and she felt her isolation acutely. 

Worse than her own pain was the thought of Chakotay's. She had trampled upon his heart once again. Her throat constricted as she remembered the anguish in his face; anguish she had caused. 

In a way, she hoped she had finally hurt him enough to extinguish the love he felt for her. Then perhaps he could find someone else. She hated herself fiercely for the stab of selfish jealousy that thought produced. She wanted happiness for him, if not for herself. If he found someone else, then perhaps they could even afford friendship again. And she wanted that very much, despite the fact that she didn't feel she deserved it.

  


### Day Nineteen

Janeway ignored the door chime. She was therefore shocked when someone entered anyhow. Tom Paris. Damn. 

"I suppose you've come to apologize." Her voice was carefully neutral. 

"No, I haven't. I don't have anything to apologize for." 

That was unexpected. 

"I have something to say, and you are going to listen." 

"I don't think you have any right to tell me what I'm going to do." Anger edged into her voice. 

"You're wrong, and you will listen." 

"Do I need to call security, Mister Paris?" 

"Throw me in the brig. Bust me down to crewman. I don't care, Kathryn, as long as you hear what I came here to say." 

"You will address me as Captain," Janeway said in her most authoritative voice. She gave Paris a look that would have intimidated the Borg Queen. 

"No, I will address you as Kathryn." Tom was not backing down. "The Captain Janeway that I know is one of the bravest people I've ever met. When you decide to demonstrate that courage again, I'll call you Captain. But while you're hiding in here like a coward, I'll call you Kathryn. You are a person, not a title. Maybe you need to remember that." 

The two glared at each other. 

Tom softened his voice, if not his posture. "He loves you." 

"Mister Paris, I don't - " 

He cut her off forcefully. "No. Be quiet and listen. He loves you. You love him. You can't hide from that." 

"Mister Paris. My relationship with the Commander is strictly professional, and my personal life is none of your damn business anyhow." 

"Don't give me that crap. You love him. Why are you afraid to say it?" 

"You are dismissed. Now get out." 

"I'll get out when you admit that you love him." 

"That isn't going to happen. Get out now." 

"So tell me that you don't. Go ahead, Kathryn. Tell me you don't love Chakotay. You can't, can you?" 

She couldn't. He was right. She glared at him. Kathryn Janeway did not like to be cornered. 

"What is it, Kathryn? The ship? Admitting that you love the commander is hardly likely to cause a warp core breach. The crew? I think we've all made it clear how we feel. You have our blessings. Starfleet? Who the hell cares what they think." 

"I do." She said it softly. A flicker of emotion showed beneath her captain's mask. 

"Why?" he demanded. "Did you worry about what Starfleet would say when you made me your helm officer? Or have you forgotten that I had lost my Starfleet commission? Did you worry about their opinion when you made B'Elanna chief engineer? How about when you bargained with the Borg? Or gave holodeck technology to the Hirogens? Or granted Harry permission to date Lyssa? No, you did what was best for this ship and this crew. That's what makes you a good captain." 

"This is not the same." The ice was back in her voice. 

But Tom had his answer. He turned and left.

  


Chakotay stared at the ceiling, his thoughts still on Kathryn. He wondered if she had slept at all the night before. He hadn't. 

He couldn't imagine life without her. He wouldn't. Without her, he would be incomplete. So, if the only way they could go on from here was to end their friendship, he would have to find the strength to accept it. 

He would miss the touch of her hand. He would miss her smile. He would miss her companionship. But if the only way he could remain by her side was as her first officer, that is what he would do. He had sworn to remain by her side and he could hardly do otherwise. And as much as he wanted more, the thought of any less was intolerable. Living without Kathryn would be like living without a soul. 

Could he do it? Could he sit beside her on the bridge every day without revealing a shred of emotion? Not for a single moment did he even consider that he could stop loving her. His love for her was a part of him. But could he hide it? Could he keep his feelings out of his eyes? Out of his voice? 

Yes. It would be hard. But yes. If that was what she needed, he could do it. For Kathryn, he could do anything. It was just going to take a little time.

  


The bridge had never been so quiet. All eyes were on Tom Paris as he emerged from the ready room. He looked at each one of them in turn. "There's only one way we can fix this. We have to find a way to contact Starfleet."

  


Ten minutes later they were all gathered in the conference room. The captain's chair remained empty, a symbol of their purpose. Tom Paris stood behind it, eyes blazing with determination. 

Tuvok sat in his customary place and listened. He had little choice but to allow his fellow officers to try what they would. It was only logical. The ship was far from operating efficiently as things were. 

The captain had remained sequestered in her ready room since the previous morning, not even emerging for meals. Neelix and Campbell had even beamed food onto her desk when the computer confirmed that she wasn't bothering to use the replicator. The first officer hid in his quarters, unresponsive to all hails. The entire crew was distracted. 

He was reasonably confident that the captain would appear if a true emergency arose. He imagined that the commander would as well. They'd probably even manage to work together with some efficiency. But Tuvok wasn't prepared to gamble the welfare of the ship on human emotions. And he had to admit that he wanted Captain Janeway to be happy as much as Lieutenant Paris did. 

Tom looked at B'Elanna. "We need a way to not just contact Starfleet, but to maintain live communication for a significant time period." 

"Tom, we've had to jump through hoops just to relay messages to them. How the hell am I supposed to accomplish a direct comm link?" 

"We'd need a wormhole or a spatial anomaly," Harry said. "And we all know the likelihood of finding a wormhole to the alpha quadrant." 

"A small one would suffice. It wouldn't even need to be entirely stable." Seven looked thoughtful. 

"Too bad we can't make one ourselves." B'Elanna looked at Seven. They were sharing a thought. 

Seven said what they both were thinking. "The Romulans can." 

That got everyone's attention in a hurry. 

"If we could get even a brief message to the Romulans, then perhaps they could give us a hand. Besides, any message to the Federation would have to pass through Romulan space." 

"The Romulans aren't exactly buddy-buddy with Starfleet," Harry said. "Contacting them could get us all court martialled." 

The Doctor snorted. "Oh, who here hasn't risked court martial already?" 

"This would be different." 

"I agree that my dealings with the Romulans haven't always been friendly," the Doctor said. "But they haven't all been unfriendly, either." 

"The Romulans can't be trusted," Tuvok said. 

"I found Telek R'Mor to be an honorable individual," Seven said. "It would not be logical to assume that he was the only such individual among his people." 

"R'Mor's dead." The coldness of the statement was at odds with the softness of B'Elanna's voice. 

"His daughter would be in her twenties now." Seven seemed to be speaking only to B'Elanna, who nodded in reply. 

"We did promise to someday tell her that her father was a noble man." 

Tom looked back and forth between B'Elanna and Seven. He was somewhat surprised at the affection they each seemed to hold for R'Mor. Of course, he had been otherwise occupied during the Romulan scientist's visit; he had been trapped in the shadow universe, painting pottery. 

"So let me get this straight." The usually optimistic Harry Kim was skeptical. "Our plan is to send a message blindly into Romulan space on the hopes that it will reach one individual, whose name we don't even know?" 

Tuvok spoke up. "Remember, the Romulans are not aware of the fact that we believe R'Mor to be deceased, and in fact we do not have conclusive proof that he has indeed passed on. The Federation database could have been mistaken; perhaps he did not die in 2367. The report of his death may have been exaggerated by the Romulans for security reasons. Or his stay on Voyager may have affected his future history in some way." 

"If he was alive, he would have sent our messages to Starfleet in 2371," B'Elanna said without hesitation. 

"Are we sure he didn't?" Neelix asked. 

"Starfleet thought Voyager had been destroyed in the Badlands," the Doctor pointed out. "If R'Mor had sent those messages, they would have known differently." 

"Perhaps he made an attempt to send them, but Starfleet didn't receive them," Seven suggested. 

"Regardless, our best option may be to address our message to the Talvath, in hopes that if R'Mor is not alive, then the current commander of that vessel will have reason to help us, or will at least be able to put us in touch with R'Mor's daughter or someone else willing to assist us." 

"That sounds like a longshot, Tuvok," Tom said. 

"Indeed it is, Mister Paris, but it does seem to be the only plan that we have." 

"Even if they want to help us, can they?" Joe Carey asked. "As I recall they were having a little problem with temporal distortion." 

"They've had nearly twenty years to work on that technology," Seven said. "They are likely to have corrected that problem by now." 

"They no longer have the help of the Shepherds," Vorik reminded them. "They might have abandoned the project entirely. 

"I don't know about that," the Doctor said. "Romulans are notoriously persistent." 

"Our first challenge is to figure out how we think we're even going to contact the Romulans," Tom said. "Suggestions?"

  


Tom's intrusion had served to convince Janeway that she didn't dare face her crew yet. She had no desire to have the same conversation with everyone on board. It occurred to her that Chakotay was the only one who hadn't argued with her decision. In fact, he had put forth significant effort to prove to her that he agreed. 

She felt a surge of gratitude for his support. When she recognized that it had turned into a feeling of affection, she scolded herself firmly. He was her first officer. Nothing more. His support should serve to confirm her decision, not to comfort her. Comfort implied friendship. 

How could she hope to set aside this friendship? Had she been lying to him just a week before, when she had claimed that she wouldn't trade it for anything? Now she was throwing it away. 

No, she reminded herself. She had already destroyed it. She had destroyed it the moment she let her lips touch his; the moment she had lost control she had made their friendship impossible. It was too late to change her actions. Now she had to live with the consequences.

  


Many hours later, a dozen officers again gathered in the briefing room. Seven of Nine pulled up some schematics on a monitor. 

"This device will open a transwarp conduit into Romulan space. It will be highly unstable, but I believe that we can send a message beacon through it with a forty two percent probability of success." 

"Unfortunately, we'll have to install this system on one of the shuttlecraft," B'Elanna added. "With the resources we have available, we can't make it work on a ship the size of Voyager. And we'll only have one shot at this." 

"What about the Delta Flyer?" Tom asked. 

"I don't believe that would be the best option." Seven brought up another set of schematics. "Whatever shuttle we use has a very low probability of survival. It is highly likely that the shuttle will be pulled into the conduit behind the beacon." 

B'Elanna nodded. "And if that happens the shuttle will be torn apart. The conduit will not be big enough for even an escape pod, let alone a type six shuttle." 

The Doctor leaned forward. "Pardon me for asking, but what about the shuttle's pilot?" 

"We'll have to transport the away team off of the shuttle the moment the beacon is launched," B'Elanna said. "I can't say it won't be dangerous, but it can be done." 

Tuvok looked particularly displeased. "Once the beacon is launched, how much time will we have?" 

B'Elanna seemed reluctant to answer for a moment. "Maybe a minute. I'll know more once we run a few simulations on the holodeck." 

"Is there any risk to Voyager?" 

"We don't believe so. The ship will need to be within transporter range of the shuttle, but the conduit should collapse before it poses any threat to anything outside its immediate vicinity. We'll know more after running the simulations." 

Tuvok made his decision. "Proceed with the simulations."

  


### Day Twenty

No one in engineering had gotten much sleep. Joe Carey supervised the modifications to the Sacajawea while B'Elanna, Seven, Tom, and Harry ran simulations on holodeck two. 

It quickly became apparent that the plan was too risky to attempt without some alterations. In six attempts, the away team survived only once. 

"Damn!" Tom shouted as the hull once again breached on his holographic shuttle. 

"Does the profanity serve a function, Lieutenant?" Seven asked. 

"It makes me feel better. Harry, what is the delay with the transporters?" 

It was B'Elanna who answered. "We only had three seconds from the time you launched the beacon before your hull breached. That isn't enough time to get a lock. You have to cut down the amount of time between the opening of the conduit and the launch." 

"Let's try it one more time. Maybe seven will be our lucky number." 

Seven raised her eyebrows in acknowledgement of his very small joke.

  


Janeway hadn't slept once again. Not that she had tried. She hadn't even left the ready room. Returning to her quarters didn't seem like the right step. They were too close to Chakotay's, and she still didn't trust herself not to weaken. In the ready room, she was constantly reminded of her responsibilities to the ship. Her quarters felt too much like home. 

Twice she had used the computer to locate Chakotay. He had been in his quarters both times. She hoped B'Elanna would go offer him a shoulder. It wasn't fair for him to suffer alone.

  


Chakotay was mourning his loss in solitude. He kept reminding himself that things could be much worse. Kathryn was, after all, still alive. This loss could be borne because it wasn't complete. 

For six years, his greatest fear had been the thought of losing Kathryn. Every time she was in danger, his heart again knew the same icy grip of fear. 

How many times had he stood in sickbay, terrified that this time she wouldn't pull through? 

How many times had he paced around the bridge, fighting to keep panic at bay while she faced peril without him on the surface of some alien planet, or aboard some alien ship? He shuddered at the memories of her all too frequent visits to Borg cubes. 

He remembered performing CPR, his face wet with tears as he pleaded with her to breathe. He remembered clutching her wrists with all of his strength, praying with all his heart as he dragged her up the side of an alien mountain. 

He had not lost her permanently, he tried to remind himself. It was the friendship he had lost, not his captain. They would work together again, just as soon as he found the strength to control his emotions. And he refused to give up the hope that someday they would reach the Alpha Quadrant.

  


"So," Harry was saying, "If I take the Delta Flyer, I can launch the beacon from behind the Sacajawea while Lyssa transports Tom and Seven back to Voyager." 

B'Elanna shrugged. "Let's try it."

  


Tuvok found himself in a difficult position. He could not allow lives to be risked in order for the message to be relayed, and he knew he shouldn't allow a shuttle to be sacrificed. But Tom thought that the captain would benefit from speaking to Starfleet, and he didn't disagree. 

In fact, Tuvok knew what Tom most likely did not. He knew that the captain's personal life had previously required the interference of Owen Paris. 

The plan they had was fraught with difficulties. It was risky, incomplete, and not even particularly likely to succeed. 

The captain was liable to be furious. Those involved could even face court martial, but as the Doctor had pointed out, who on board Voyager hadn't already broken regulations at some point? Tuvok himself had even disobeyed orders more than once.

  


Again, the briefing room. The tension could have been cut with a laser scalpel. Tuvok listened as each part of the operation was explained. 

That the Sacajawea would be sacrificed had become an accepted fact. The Delta Flyer would be launched as well, although neither it nor Voyager would be subjected to any particular danger. 

The away team was Tuvok's primary concern. If they weren't transported off of the shuttle in a timely fashion, they'd be sucked into the unstable conduit. Torres claimed a one hundred percent success rate in recovering them once they had changed tactics, but he was still concerned. 

This plan contained an acceptable level of risk for a legitimate mission. But for a covert operation intended to tamper with the captain's personal life, there was no acceptable level of risk. 

These thoughts all passed through Tuvok's mind. All eyes were upon him, waiting for his approval. "Proceed."

  


B'Elanna took a few minutes away from engineering in order to compose a message for the Romulans:

  


_This message is intended for Dr. Telek R'Mor, the Romulan science vessel Talvath, or any loyal Romulan willing to grant a favor to old friends aboard the Federation starship Voyager. We have been allies in the past, when it served the best interest of both the Federation and the Empire. Now, we humbly ask for your help. You have technology which we do not possess. We would not ask you to divulge any secrets, but we could benefit from your assistance. There is nothing more at stake than the personal welfare of Captain Kathryn Janeway, but to those of us on Voyager that is sufficient cause to risk our careers, even our lives. We hope you recognize our sincerity, and see fit to aid us._

  


_Long live the Empire_ ,

  


_Lieutenant B'Elanna Torres_

_Chief Engineer, USS Voyager_

  


She included both voice and text versions of the message, as well as the stardate and Voyager's current coordinates, then went to assist Seven and the others with the final systems check on the Sacajawea.

  


Tom ordered himself not to bite his fingernails, and chewed a hole in his lower lip instead. Too much depended upon the success of this mission, and the odds were not in their favor. Jury-rigged Borg technology, unstable transwarp conduits, unavoidable hull breaches, and favors asked of Romulans did not add up to a good idea. It wasn't death he feared. It was the captain's reaction if and when she learned about it all. 

As he boarded the Sacajawea with Seven, Tom wondered if he'd be thrown in the brig before or after Chakotay broke his nose again. 

Harry and B'Elanna climbed into the Delta Flyer with the message beacon and tensely awaited the signal to launch. Neither dared think what might happen if they failed. 

Tuvok, on the bridge, gave the order to drop out of warp. Ensign Henley turned Voyager forty five degrees, then brought the ship to a full stop. The Sacajawea and the Delta Flyer would perform the operation off the port side, thus out of sight from the viewport in the ready room.

  


Janeway felt her ship drop out of warp. She was then sure that she felt it turn slightly. Without any stars to judge by, she couldn't be sure. Please, she thought, not a crisis. Not now. She had been crying, and couldn't possibly be seen on the bridge. 

Shakily, she retrieved her combadge and tested her own voice. It was hoarse and unsteady. Damn. But then again, she could hardly be surprised. She had done nothing but cry for two days. 

"See," she muttered to the empty room. "This is why a captain is supposed to remain detached." 

After a deep breath, the captain managed to collect herself enough to inquire after the welfare of her ship. "Janeway to Bridge. What happened?"

  


Everyone froze. Tuvok could hear the strain in his captain's voice. He realized that they had already made an error. The captain had felt the ship drop out of warp. 

Vulcans did not lie, with rare exceptions, but the captain was awaiting an answer he couldn't give. Furthermore, the engineering station was manned by Vorik, who had the same constraints. Without speaking, Tuvok turned and nodded to Ensign Jenkins at tactical. 

"We're at a full stop as scheduled by engineering this morning, ma'am," Jenkins lied smoothly.

  


"Acknowledged," Janeway managed, half way between relieved and annoyed. Now she wasn't even being informed of ship's business? But then again she had turned command over to Tuvok temporarily. She wondered what she had been trying to accomplish by doing that. She certainly didn't feel any better now than she had two days ago, and she didn't anticipate feeling any better in two days time. 

Hell, two years wouldn't be enough to erase this pain. Her loss was too great for her to recover in a couple of days, and the guilt produced by the fact that it was her fault didn't help. The time was needed not for healing. It was needed for adjusting to the hurt, so that she could cover it up, and hide it from those around her. She still had a duty to get this crew home.

  


Chakotay jolted awake. He wasn't sure what had disturbed him, but as he regained his grasp of reality the bigger mystery was how he had even managed to drift off. Fresh pain shot through him as he remembered Kathryn's words. 

While not meant to be cruel, they had still wounded him deeply. He had seen the pain in her eyes as she said them; felt her grief even as he felt his own. Even now, it was her feelings that were on his mind. Was she still hiding in her ready room? He suspected as much. 

Was there some way he could help her? Had Tuvok offered her support, as he had asked? How could he find out without the agony of speaking to someone? In his current mood, Kathryn was the only person whose company he could tolerate, but that wasn't possible. If only he had kept his lips to himself. 

Miserable, he rolled over and tried to go back to sleep. Perhaps he would dream of Kathryn.

  


Tom moved the Sacajawea into position. In truth, his job in this operation was ridiculously easy. It hardly even required a reasonably competent shuttle pilot, let alone someone of his skill. 

But the fact remained that the team aboard the Sacajawea would shortly be risking their lives to fix his error. He couldn't fail to be a member of that team.

  


Harry moved the Delta Flyer into position, smiling as he always did at the ridiculous control panel Tom had designed for the small ship. It looked like something out of a bad twentieth century television show. 

"Harry," B'Elanna ordered. "Open a channel to the Sacajawea." 

"Channel open." 

"Seven, are you all set?" 

Seven's voice was heard over the comm link. "I am prepared, Lieutenant." 

B'Elanna took a deep breath. "Then let's do it."

  


Seven tapped a series of commands into her console and the Sacajawea began to vibrate. 

"I'm reading microfractures in the hull," Tom announced tensely. "Increasing power to the structural integrity field." 

"The conduit is opening," Seven announced. 

The computer calmly informed them all of impending doom. "Warning. Hull breach in ten seconds."

  


Tuvok rose from the command chair and turned to Ensign Campbell at ops. She nodded. "I have a lock on them, sir." 

"Energize." 

"Bridge to transporter room one." 

"We have them."

Things were not going quite as smoothly aboard the Delta Flyer. The beacon had been successfully launched into the conduit, but that was the last thing that had gone correctly. 

Both Harry and B'Elanna were now fighting to keep their vessel under control and in one piece. 

The Flyer was shaking violently as the unstable conduit, unsatisfied with the random parts of the Sacajawea it managed to devour, tried to pull a second vessel into its hungry mouth. 

"Reverse thrusters!" B'Elanna shouted unnecessarily. 

"What do you think I'm doing?" Harry's hands flew over the console. 

"Why is that thing still open?" B'Elanna demanded. She was working to increase shield strength, although without much success. "Computer, give me a level ten forcefield." 

"Unable to comply." 

"Why the hell not?" 

"Please repeat request." 

"Never mind." The engineer frantically cannibalized a storage unit, intending to use it to patch the impending hull fracture. It was a trick that had worked before, but she knew full well that it would buy them a minute, and no more. 

"Delta Flyer to Voyager," Harry shouted. "A little help, here?" 

Just before the tractor beam locked on, the thrusters cut out, throwing Harry and B'Elanna to the floor. The makeshift panel blew out, and the vessel began losing atmosphere as it was towed into the shuttlebay.

  


"Voyager to Delta Flyer," Tuvok repeated. "Delta Flyer please respond." He turned to Campbell. "Beam them directly to sickbay." 

Tom Paris, just leaving the turbolift, stopped dead in his tracks. "What happened?" 

"They lost thrusters and breached their hull." 

The blood drained from Tom's face as he turned back to the turbolift. "Deck Five." Had he just killed both the woman he loved and his best friend? Not again. Please not again. Not B'Elanna. Not Harry. Please, God, not again.

  


B'Elanna and Harry rematerialized in sickbay. Both were unconscious. Both were bleeding. Harry was breathing; B'Elanna was not. Furthermore, the engineer had a twisted metal panel protruding from her stomach. The Doctor observed these facts instantly and flew into action, hyposprays blazing. 

"See to Mister Kim," he ordered as Tom rushed in the door. 

Blocking out his fear for B'Elanna's safety, Tom moved to comply. He grabbed a medical tricorder and ran it over his friend. Concussion, fractured clavicle, assorted contusions and lacerations, but nothing life threatening. 

With a sigh of partial relief, Tom took action to reduce Harry's cranial swelling and administer a painkiller, then allowed his attention to turn to B'Elanna. 

Ensigns Wildman and Campbell were both now frantically assisting the Doctor. For an eternal minute Tom again feared the worst, but then B'Elanna gasped and began coughing. 

"Easy, Lieutenant," the Doctor warned. "You've somehow managed to get part of a storage compartment lodged in your abdomen." 

"I wondered where that went." She tried not to wince in pain. "Harry?" 

"Everyone's safe," Tom assured her. 

She nodded. "Did it work?" 

"Too early to tell." He took her hand in both of his. The Doctor and Lyssa began to remove the foreign object from B'Elanna's midriff. Tom turned his back on the procedure in an attempt to fight off the nausea her wound was causing him. He had seen worse. In fact, he had treated worse, but this was different. It was B'Elanna and it was his fault. "What happened on the Flyer?" 

"The conduit remained open longer than anticipated," B'Elanna answered through clenched teeth. The Doctor had administered painkillers, but Klingon or not, she was having a bit of trouble ignoring even the numb sensation of having metal removed from her gut. 

They both heard the whine of the medical transporter, followed by a rattle as the metal dropped to the floor. 

"Nicely done, Ensign," the Doctor told Lyssa. "You'll be surpassing Mister Paris in no time." 

B'Elanna smiled up at Tom. "Maybe we can try that maneuver again. If Lyssa gets enough practice maybe the Doc really will replace you." 

"We'll see about that," the Doctor replied cheerfully. "Now let's see about getting some of these organs put back together, Lieutenant."

  


Everyone was steering clear of the captain, but as the dinner hour approached Neelix took it upon himself to check on the first officer. Not without some trepidation, he rang the chime. Silence was the only response. 

Chakotay heard the door chime and debated with himself as to whether to respond. A small part of him hoped it was Kathryn, although he knew better. 

It was more likely to be B'Elanna, or perhaps Tom, and he had no wish to see them or anyone else. Kathryn, in the unlikely event that she appeared, would open the door herself. Anyone else he'd rather ignore. 

Neelix, not easily discouraged, hit his combadge. "Neelix to Chakotay." 

The first officer ignored the chirp as well. A red alert might have driven him from his quarters, but little else could motivate him to open the door.

  


### Day Twenty One

The alpha shift shuffled onto the bridge and took their posts. Tom had found himself stuck with the captain's duty shift when Tuvok revised the roster. B'Elanna, who was technically off duty for medical reasons, slumped beside him in Chakotay's seat. 

No message had yet come from the Romulans. The captain and first officer still remained incommunicado. Everyone was tense. 

B'Elanna glanced nervously at the ready room door. Her fear now was that the captain would emerge before the response was received. The last thing they needed was for the captain to be on the bridge if and when the Romulans made contact. 

Hours passed, without even idle chatter. People came and went for lunch. Seven of Nine even made excuses to loiter on the bridge. Then, an anomaly off the port side. Ensign Kim and Ensign Jenkins announced its appearance simultaneously. Harry put it up on the main viewscreen before Tom even gave the command. 

"It's not a wormhole," Harry observed. "I'm receiving a hail." 

"Onscreen," Tom said. He and B'Elanna both stood to greet the young Romulan woman who appeared. 

"I am Dr. Tarleya R'Mor of the Romulan Astrophysical Academy, aboard the science vessel Talvath. We received a communication from Lieutenant B'Elanna Torres of the Federation Starship Voyager." 

"I am Lieutenant Torres." B'Elanna got right to the point. "We're hoping you can help us." 

"I will do my best. As a rule, my government does not trust the Federation, but Voyager is another matter. You mentioned Captain Janeway's well being. Is she ill?" 

"Not physically," B'Elanna assured the Romulan. She proceeded to explain. 

"...So, she insists on following the rules, and Starfleet protocols forbid a captain from becoming romantically involved with a member of the crew. But our circumstances are hardly typical. We wish to contact Starfleet and obtain an exception to this rule. Our captain is a bit too stubborn to ask herself." 

R'Mor smiled knowingly. "My father counted your captain as a dear friend. Before he died, he made me promise to someday serve her tea in our family home. He would be pleased to know that we could help her." 

"He was a noble man," Torres said. "I am honored to have known him." 

"So, how exactly can we help you? I understand that you cannot contact Starfleet without breaching our space, but I suspect that you want more than our permission to do so." 

"We were hoping that your people were still researching the creation of artificial wormholes. We wouldn't ask you to share your research, as much as we would love to see it, but we were hoping you'd help us establish a live comm link. I see that you do have some method of doing just that." 

"We do. And ordinarily, I wouldn't dare let members of the Federation know what we can achieve. But this case is worthy of an exception. The Romulan Empire owes a great debt to Captain Janeway." 

"So you'll help us?" 

"Yes. Without Shepherd technology we can no longer artificially construct a wormhole large enough to bring a starship through, but you were correct in assuming that we did not stop our research in that area. We cannot get you home, but we can provide the assistance you require."

  


Admiral Owen Paris stared at his monitor in disbelief. A private message from the Romulan Empress? He would have been less confused by a note from Santa Claus. 

A long haired Romulan woman appeared on his monitor. 

"Greetings, Admiral Paris. I have been told by a trusted friend that you are an honorable man, and so I am forwarding you this message as a favor to those who in the past have saved my Empire, as well as your Federation, through their heroic actions. Now, they need assistance themselves. 

"I beg of you, please honor their humble request. I believe you will find it within your means to do so. I only hope that they are correct in their belief that you will find it in your heart as well. 

"The Romulan Empire will gladly welcome the necessary Federation ship into our space, be it Starfleet or civilian, a runabout or your flagship. 

Our only request is that you move swiftly, as matters of the heart are not to be taken lightly."

  


Matters of the heart? How could such a thing possibly require a Federation vessel to enter Romulan space, and why would the Romulan Empress take a personal interest? 

He opened the attached text file and read.

  


_Admiral Paris,_

  


_This message has reached you through the kind assistance of the Romulan Empire. They possess a technology which has proven useful to us. More, I will not say. I am sure that you understand._

_The purpose of this correspondence is to ask that you grant a favor to those of us aboard the USS Voyager. We all wear this uniform with pride, and strive to uphold the ideals of Starfleet. But there is one sacrifice that we feel is too great under the circumstances._

_As you know, unless Voyager locates an anomaly or obtains advanced technology, we are nearly thirty years from Federation space. But our captain is choosing to sacrifice her personal life by putting it on hold until we reach Earth. We don't want her to sacrifice her happiness for us, as we believe it to be unnecessary. Her command ability would not be hampered by any decision she made in her personal life._

_I am asking for you to speak with her, or send a Starfleet counselor to speak with her. The Romulans have the means to establish live communication. Perhaps with Starfleet approval she will be willing to move forward with her life. Captain Janeway has been an inspiration to us all, and protocol or not we do not feel that she should remain lonely when happiness is within her grasp._

_The captain is not aware of this communication at this time. Please direct your response to the Romulan science vessel Talvath. They have the means to relay messages to us._

  


_Lieutenant B'Elanna Torres_

_Chief Engineer, USS Voyager_

  


His initial response was to wonder what the hell B'Elanna Torres was doing begging favors of the Romulan Empress, but he quickly realized that he was unlikely to discover the full story without speaking directly to Voyager. 

He didn't doubt the sincerity of the request itself. He knew Kathryn to be extremely cautious in her personal life, and he was not surprised that she was holding back from a potential relationship. 

Without knowing the circumstances, he couldn't make a judgment as to whether or not she was right to put such a thing on hold, but he did acknowledge that she might be making that sacrifice unnecessarily. 

"Computer, list Starfleet vessels within ten light years of the Romulan neutral zone." He listened to the short list and smiled.

  


Commander Will Riker rushed onto the bridge of the Enterprise, sleep rumpled and perplexed. "Report." 

"We're at warp nine point six on course for the Romulan neutral zone," Commander Data replied. 

"We're what?" Mention of the Romulans had the first officer immediately on edge. 

"On orders from Admiral Paris himself," Captain Picard said as he took his seat. "It seems that Voyager has found a means to transmit a message to this quadrant, and has need of our assistance." 

"Kathryn Janeway. Of course. I'm surprised the Admiral hasn't ordered us to drag Earth to the Delta Quadrant for her." The first officer didn't even try to keep the uncharacteristic annoyance from his voice. "What's the emergency? She low on coffee?" 

"Will, they've been out there for six years. And the Admiral's son is on that ship." Deanna Troi was shocked at her partner's bitter tone and the strength of emotion she was sensing from him. 

"I'd bet you my right arm we're not doing this for the Admiral's son, spoiled though he may be." Romulans? His mind ceased to categorize Voyager's captain as spoiled and somewhat rude, and instead regarded her as potentially dangerous. 

"And I'd bet mine that you've had a relationship with Kathryn Janeway," Troi teased gently. 

"I'd hardly call it that," he grumbled. "So what are we doing for the Admiral's pet captain that warrants violating the neutral zone?" 

"It seems we have an invitation from the Romulan government to cross the neutral zone and enter their space," Picard said. "Admiral Paris suggested that we hurry. As for the nature of the emergency, you know as much as I do." 

"Hurry?" 

"That is what the Admiral said." 

"I've got a bad feeling about this," Riker complained quietly. "We have no idea what we're heading into or why." 

"That's not quite true," Counselor Troi interjected. "The Admiral forwarded me a confidential request from Voyager's chief engineer." 

Deanna's revelation did little to comfort the first officer. "As I recall, her so called chief engineer is a Maquis terrorist. For that matter, so is her acting first officer. Now they've apparently gotten into bed with the Romulans and we're supposed to trust them?" 

"I don't like this either," Picard agreed. "I respect Captain Janeway, but I'm not so sure about Lieutenant Torres, and I'm certainly not sure of the Romulans. Deanna, care to enlighten us?" 

"I'm sorry, sir. I can't give details, just that there are crewmembers who are in need of a ship's counselor. I believe Torres was being sincere. As a deception, it doesn't make sense." Deanna Troi shrugged helplessly. "There are certainly easier ways of luring the Enterprise into Romulan space." 

"They need a ship's counselor?" Riker asked incredulously. "That's the emergency? And the best solution they could come up with was to send the Enterprise into Romulan space? Unbelievable." 

Deanna shot Will a questioning look. "What is it?" 

He shrugged. "Look, it's not that I'm not sympathetic, but no one at Starfleet went to this much trouble over the disappearances of Montgomery Scott or James Kirk, and those men were heroes to the Federation. There have certainly been plenty of lost ships. 

"How is it that Janeway's crew gets such special treatment? First, Admiral Paris lets the Pathfinder project completely monopolize the Midas Array, and now this. I don't think it warrants the risk. We can't afford a confrontation with the Romulan Empire just because someone on that ship is homesick." 

"It's a little more than that. They could be out there for the rest of their lives, and they need someone to help them through some of the consequences of that fact." 

"Maybe, but I'll feel better when this is over. You know that I'm really not overly fond of any mission involving the Romulans."

  


Captain Janeway was trying desperately to get her emotions under control. She needed to get back to the business of running her ship. But for once, her determination was failing her. 

Again, the painfully bittersweet memory of Chakotay's last words to her bubbled to the surface of her mind. She remembered how very badly she had wanted to speak similar words, and decided that she should. 

Not to him. That wasn't possible. But she needed to express them. Then maybe she could put this behind her. She reached for a padd, then changed her mind and crossed to the replicator. 

"Paper and pen." She took the items and sat down to think.

  


_Dear Chakotay,_

  


_I don't know under what circumstances you might finally read these words. If I'm dead, then I'm sorry. It shouldn't have come to that, but as I write this I just don't see how it can be otherwise between us._

_I love you, Chakotay. I think I always have. At least, I can't seem to remember a time when I didn't. I know I haven't shown it. I've hurt you so many times, and while this can't excuse the pain I've caused you, I do want you to know that each time I trampled your heart, your good, kind heart, mine broke as well._

_When I said someday, I meant it with every fiber of my being. It was my greatest desire, to someday make a life with you. Was, because as captain of this ship I can't let it be. But I don't see how I can ever stop loving you._

_If you have found someone else to love, please know that I wanted that for you. Even as I sit nursing my self inflicted wounds, I have promised myself to not let petty, selfish jealousy rear its ugly head if you find another._

_You deserve happiness, and I cannot give it to you. I want to see that light in your eyes again, even if it isn't for me. But I hope I've said those things to you, at least. If I haven't then I'm a coward._

_I know you have probably already forgiven all of the pain I've caused you, even though I neither ask for nor deserve your forgiveness. But I do want to apologize. Too little, too late, perhaps, but I need to say it._

_I'm sorry that I destroyed our friendship, which I always treasured so highly, with my impulsive and irresponsible behavior. I threw it away recklessly, and I hurt you deeply in the process. I'm so sorry. I still don't know what came over me. I've always loved you. I've always wanted you. But that night it got out of control, and I trampled on both your heart and my almighty Starfleet principles._

_I don't deserve the comfort I'm seeking by writing these words, but I don't know how else to gain control over my emotions right now, and I need to get control for the sake of the ship._

_So I'm going to tell you again how much I love you. Because I do love you. There just aren't words to describe how very much. My strong, brave, gentle, wise and loyal Chakotay, who has given me so much while asking nothing in return. Your smile melts my heart; what I wouldn't give to see it again._

_I don't know what cruel fates allowed us to find each other, only to keep us apart, divided by duty and protocol. But as selfish as I know this to be, I still can't help but be glad to have known you._

  


_All my love, always._

  


_Kathryn_

  


She stared at the emotional letter she had written and sighed. There really wasn't anything she could do with it. It was selfish of her to even consider leaving it for him, for some future date. Why pour salt in the wound? 

Again, she crossed the room to the replicator. "Computer, recycle."

  



	5. Chapter 5

### Day Twenty Two

Tuvok covered the gamma shift, and again left Tom in command for the alpha shift. Everyone who could find an excuse to be on the bridge was there, anxiously awaiting word from the Talvath. This time, they didn't have nearly as long to wait. 

An anomaly opened up off the port side. Tarleya R'Mor appeared on the viewscreen as Harry established a connection. 

"Your request was forwarded to your Admiral Paris yesterday. My Empress sent it personally." The young woman paused, clearly enjoying the reaction this announcement caused. "And it seems to have been effective. They've sent the Enterprise." 

There was a brief, celebratory reaction as the bridge crew absorbed the news. 

The Doctor smirked at Tom. "Congratulations, Mister Paris. It seems that you have made a big enough mess of things that it now requires the direct involvement of both the Romulan Empress and the Federation flagship to set things right."

  


Janeway sat at her ready room desk, staring at her monitor. For what must have been the hundredth time, she read through the regulations pertaining to interpersonal relationships on board Starfleet vessels. 

In order to proceed, the parties involved had to work in different departments. It was unacceptable for the senior officer to make the initial overture. Certain discretion was expected. Turbolifts and jefferies tubes were not considered appropriate locations for romantic encounters. 

All of that was reasonable enough. But the captain was forbidden from becoming romantically involved with a subordinate, which in her case simply wasn't fair. There was no loophole, and no room for interpretation. That just didn't seem possible. Even the Prime Directive could be bent. 

"Computer, find every reference to personal relationships in all available Starfleet texts," she ordered. 

"There are one thousand, six hundred and forty entries on that subject." 

Janeway sighed. This might take awhile. Then again, what else did she have to do?

  


Chakotay decided that a vision quest was in order. Perhaps his spirit guide could help him gain the control he sought. He carried his medicine bundle out into the living room, and froze at the sight of Kathryn's novel, which still sat on the couch where she had left it almost a week before, on the night of the kiss at Sandrine's. 

So much had changed since that night. Now, she might never again sit on his couch. The thought brought forth fresh pain as he picked up the book. Just what had she been reading that night? "Qo'noS ta'puq, Hamlet lotlut. LutvaD Ghotvam LuDalu'. Tlhaw'DIyuS, Qo'noS ta'ghaH..." It was _Hamlet_. In Klingon. She hadn't been reading; not any more than he had been. 

Should they have talked about it, that night? Would that have made a difference? Perhaps he could have convinced her to redefine parameters? 

No. 

He knew that wouldn't have worked. The whole situation had been off balance since the dance on the holodeck. On second thought, it had all started with the first movie. He should never have put his arm around her in the first place. 

Miserable, he slumped to the floor. He didn't have an answer. "taH pagh taHbe'!"

  


The captain wasn't the only one sifting through the Federation database. Now that they knew the Enterprise was on the way, a number of crew members were assembled in the briefing room, discussing the case they intended to present to Counselor Deanna Troi. 

A few Borg algorithms made short work of the encryption codes on the counselor's personnel file. 

"Seven, that really wasn't necessary," the Doctor pointed out. "I have sufficient clearance to open that file, and so does Mister Paris." 

Seven ignored him. "Counselor Troi holds the rank of Commander. She was born on Betazed in 2336, studied psychology at the University of Betazed, graduated from Starfleet Academy in 2359, and has been the ship's counselor on the Enterprise since 2363." 

"And knowing this is useful how?" Harry Kim asked. 

"It isn't," Seven agreed. "But this is relevant to our situation. Troi has had romantic relationships with Commander William Riker and Lieutenant Commander Worf, both of whom have served on board the Enterprise." 

B'Elanna sighed. "So she's either completely unopposed to shipboard romances, or she has two strong examples of why it doesn't work out." 

"I wish we knew which." Tom shifted uneasily. "This could still backfire on us." If Troi told the captain to continue following protocol...Tom shuddered at the thought. 

"There are over one hundred and fifty people on this ship," the Doctor said. "Perhaps someone on board has met her." 

"I'll ask around," Neelix volunteered. "Someone must have." 

"While I was at the Academy I heard talk of there being something between Captain Picard and his medical officer," Harry said. "Does anyone know anything about that?" 

"There is a grain of truth in that rumor," Seven said. "As for Troi's opinion on the matter, I do not know." 

"How do you know that?" B'Elanna asked. 

"The Borg assimilated Captain Picard before the battle of Wolf 359," she explained. "They possess all of his memories prior to that date." 

Tom was impressed. "I always assumed that was merely hearsay. Hey! Wait a minute. Picard isn't really Wesley Crusher's father, is he?" 

"No," Seven answered. "He is not." 

"I never knew the Borg liked to gossip," the Doctor said. 

"The Borg had plans to use Picard's feelings for Crusher against him," Seven explained. "Still, it is not information that I would be likely to possess had Captain Janeway not mentioned Picard to me before I was severed from the Collective." 

Tom's curiosity got the better of him. "Why?" 

"Let's just say that her knowledge of historical events saved this ship from assimilation." Seven smirked at the helmsman. "Some people use such information for productive reasons, rather than to torment their crewmates in the holodeck." 

"Hey!" Tom protested. "What did I do to deserve that?" 

"I don't think you want her to answer you, Flyboy." B'Elanna stood up. "I'll be in engineering."

  


The Doctor returned to sickbay. "Computer, bring up the files for all Voyager crew members to have been treated by Counselor Deanna Troi." 

One name appeared on his screen.

  


News always traveled at warp speed aboard Voyager, so it wasn't long before everyone on the ship was aware that the Enterprise was on its way. 

Megan Delaney heard the news from Tal Celes. "The Enterprise? I think I'd better go find Tom."

  


Tuvok was roused out of the first sleep he'd attempted in several days when the Doctor paged. He pulled on a uniform and headed for sickbay.

  


Tom Paris drummed his fingers on the armrest of the command chair and stared at the blank viewscreen. What had his father thought of B'Elanna's request? Should he have asked the favor himself? At the time, they had all agreed that it was more appropriate for B'Elanna to write the letter. The favor was for Captain Janeway, the Admiral's star pupil, not for his estranged son. But now Tom wondered if it should have been signed by Tuvok or Harry. 

What if The Powers That Be at Starfleet felt that the captain should hold back from a personal relationship? Troi could ruin everything. In fact, Troi could ruin everything and Starfleet could still take the captain to task just for daring to have feelings, even though she hadn't acted upon them. 

Just when Tom thought he couldn't possibly worry more, the turbolift opened and Megan Delaney walked onto the bridge. She seemed nervous. "May I speak to you, Lieutenant?" 

"Why so formal?" 

She nodded at the chair, and he laughed a little. "Sorry, I'm not used to this. Have a seat." 

Megan perched uneasily on the first officer's seat. "I heard that they're sending the Enterprise." 

"That's right." 

"When I was at the Academy, I met Lieutenant Commander Neela Daren." She sighed. "She ran the Stellar Cartography Department on the Enterprise until 2369." 

"Megan, you look worried." Tom's own nerves were really beginning to fray. "You never look worried. Why do you look worried?" 

"Because of what happened in 2369." 

"What happened in 2369?" 

"Lieutenant Commander Neela Daren had a romantic involvement with Captain Picard." 

Tom leaned back in the captain's chair and studied the ceiling intently. "And?" 

"She gave me one piece of advise." 

"Let me guess," Tom groaned. 

Megan nodded. "Never fall for your captain." 

"Damn."

  


### Day Twenty Three

"Well," the Doctor announced to those gathered in the briefing room. "I did a search for Troi's name in Starfleet's personnel files, thinking that it might come up in someone's medical records." 

"What did you find?" 

He responded with a humorless laugh. "I think the universe is toying with us. I only found one match: Lon Suder." 

"Any more good news?" In B'Elanna's opinion, Suder would hardly have been a reliable source of information even if he had still been alive. 

"I didn't think that would be much help to us. But you know me; ever the optimist. I remembered that Tuvok shared a mind meld with Mister Suder." 

All eyes turned expectantly to the tactical officer. 

"Counselor Troi left no significant impression with Mister Suder. His knowledge will not help me to alleviate your concerns about our current situation." Tuvok looked directly at Tom. "However, I trust that Admiral Paris would not have sent the Enterprise if Troi wasn't apt to be sympathetic to our position." 

Tom met Tuvok's gaze. "What do you know, Tuvok?" 

"I know many things, Mister Paris," he replied, to the mild amusement of everyone but Tom. "But I suspect you are referring to my confidence in your father. Suffice it to say that he has played the role of matchmaker before. If you want more information, I suggest you speak with the captain." 

"Come on, Tuvok." Tom stared at the Vulcan for a moment, then threw his hands up in despair. "Fine. Don't tell us." 

The comm system beeped, and Ensign Campbell's voice was heard. "Lieutenant Torres, the Talvath is hailing."

  


"The Enterprise should reach the rendezvous point in approximately thirty hours," Tarleya R'Mor told B'Elanna. "We plan to invite Counselor Troi on board at that time. Will you be able to convince your captain to speak with her then?" 

"I certainly hope so. How long can you keep one of these anomalies open?" 

"That's what I'd like to discuss, Lieutenant. While we are certainly pleased to help you, it would be in our best interest to limit the Federation's knowledge of our research." 

"We understand." B'Elanna nodded. 

The Romulan continued. "If the Enterprise attempts to scan our ship or the anomaly, we will be forced to close it. We will maintain communication for as long as is necessary to obtain your objective, but we are hoping that the process will not take an excessive length. We will allow the anomaly to collapse, then contact you again after the Enterprise has departed." 

"Fair enough. Obviously, we will not be sending or receiving tactical data, but we do have crew members who would like to send messages to their loved ones at home." 

"Agreed. Romulan intelligence may wish to look at those messages. Do you have any objection?" 

"No. Not under the circumstances."

  


Seven sat on the edge of a biobed, patiently enduring the Doctor's weekly scan of her cortical implant. "Are you concerned that Counselor Troi will support the captain's adherence to protocol?" 

"Somewhat. I think it far more likely that she will encourage the captain to see reason, but there is always that possibility. I agree with Tuvok, however, in his assessment of Admiral Paris." 

"You have information that the others do not possess." 

"Yes, I do. I took the liberty of poking around in the captain's personnel file. Many years ago, she served on the Al Batani with Admiral Paris. It seems that he introduced her to Justin Tighe. They were engaged to be married." 

"That is the matchmaking to which Tuvok referred." Seven looked thoughtful. "Where is this man now?" 

"I had the same question," the Doctor answered softly. "I pulled up his file. He and Admiral Edward Janeway were both killed in a shuttlecrash many years ago."

  


B'Elanna stood outside the first officer's quarters and rang the chime. Again. "Chakotay, I know you can hear me. Tom thinks there's something you need to see in cargo bay one." 

Chakotay ignored her. He had no desire to see Tom Paris or the cargo bay. And if the helmsman was attempting to lure him out of hiding by indirectly threatening his hidden supply of Antarian cider, well he just didn't care. He wouldn't enjoy it anyhow if he couldn't share it with Kathryn. 

"Chakotay, please. Just come look at this stupid thing before Tom starts ranting about the Golgafrincham B Ark again," B'Elanna pleaded. "He wanted to beam it onto the bridge, and I barely talked him out of it. You'd better go down there before he transports it into your quarters." 

The threat was meaningless. Chakotay had no idea what B'Elanna was talking about, and he didn't much care what Tom transported to the bridge or anywhere else. He was relieved when B'Elanna gave up.

  


Eyes bleary from staring at her computer screen, Janeway got up and stretched. "Computer, what time is it?" 

"Thirteen hundred hours." 

She considered calling the bridge for a status report, but it crossed her mind that she might not want to talk to the officer on duty. "Computer, locate Tuvok." 

"Lieutenant Commander Tuvok is in his quarters." 

She sighed. He must have covered the gamma shift. Maybe Harry was in command. That wouldn't be so bad; he wouldn't try to bully her into speaking with Chakotay, would he? 

"Computer, locate Harry Kim." 

"Ensign Kim is in the shuttlebay." 

Okay, so if Harry didn't have the bridge, who did? 

"Computer, locate Commander Chakotay." 

"Commander Chakotay is in his quarters." 

"Computer, locate Lieutenant Paris." 

"Lieutenant Paris is in cargo bay one." 

"Computer, locate Lieutenant Ayala." 

"Lieutenant Ayala is in holodeck two." 

"Computer, locate Lieutenant Torres." 

"Lieutenant Torres is in the shuttlebay." 

"Computer, locate Ensign Culhane." 

"Ensign Culhane is in the mess hall." 

"Computer, locate Lieutenant Rollins." 

"Lieutenant Rollins is in hydroponics." 

Well, that pretty much eliminated anyone who had any business being in command. She gave it one more try. "Computer, locate the Doctor." 

"The EMH is in sickbay." 

Imagine that. Someone was actually at their post. "Computer, locate Seven of Nine." 

"Seven of Nine is in sickbay." Well, that explained that. But who was on the bridge? She changed tactics. "Computer, who is on the bridge?" 

"Ensign Campbell, Ensign Henley, Ensign Jenkins, Ensign Vorik, and Ensign Wildman." 

"Computer, who is in command?" 

"Captain Kathryn Janeway is in command of this vessel." 

"I meant right now." 

"Please repeat request." 

"Computer, who has command this shift?" 

"Lieutenant Paris is in command." 

"Then why isn't he on the bridge?" she muttered. 

"Please repeat request." 

She didn't bother. It was abundantly clear that she needed to shower, take a nap, and return to duty. Her eyes returned to her research project. Just another few hundred entries, and she'd work on getting that nap.

  


### Day Twenty Four

"I'm picking up a Romulan vessel on long range sensors." 

"Onscreen." 

A small science vessel, and not the expected Bird of Prey, appeared on the viewscreen. 

"Initiate a tachyon scan. There may be cloaked vessels," Riker ordered, suspicious of the entire situation. He exchanged a look with Captain Picard. 

"Nothing, sir," the ensign replied. 

"Hail them." Picard stood, straightening his uniform as he did so. At his nod, a young Romulan woman appeared on the viewscreen. 

He put on his best diplomatic face. "This is Captain Jean-Luc Picard of the Federation starship Enterprise." 

"Welcome, Captain. I am Dr. Tarleya R'Mor of the Romulan Astrophysical Academy, aboard the science vessel Talvath. We thank you for your assistance in this matter." 

"I'm afraid that I am still somewhat in the dark as to the nature of this matter, Doctor. Care to fill me in?" 

"I realize that you do not trust Romulans. I understand your concern. My government does not trust the Federation. But this case is worthy of an exception. The Romulan Empire owes a great debt to Captain Janeway. Our Empress has waited many years for the opportunity to express her gratitude." 

Oh, now this was simply too much. Will Riker was hard pressed to hide his annoyance. What could that exasperating woman possibly have done to gain the favor of the Romulan Empress? And many years? What did that mean? How many years? 

"I would have grown up without a father if not for Captain Janeway, and I am very pleased to have an opportunity to repay her kindness. I know this request to be sincere, as my father always spoke very highly of B'Elanna Torres." 

At that revelation, the usually unflappable first officer of the Federation flagship simply gaped. Exactly how long had Janeway been associating with the Romulans? 

In fact, were they somehow behind Voyager's disappearance in the first place? Had there been ties between the Maquis and the Romulans? Perhaps the Federation was wrong to soften its views on the Maquis, despite recent events.

  


Chakotay lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling and thinking of Kathryn, as he had been doing for days on end. He knew she was hiding, from him and from the crew. He hated the thought. It hurt to think of her, locked in her ready room, suffering alone. 

It always hurt when protocol kept him from comforting her during hard times. He hated it when she hardened her voice and called him Commander, as she had after they had learned that Harry Kim was possibly dead, or when Kes had left the ship. 

Yet as hard as those days had been, this was worse. This time he was to blame for her distress, and this time threatened a permanence in the distance between them. 

He missed her. 

Again he stared at the object which was blocking his bathroom door. What had Tom hoped to accomplish with that? He certainly didn't need a physical reminder of the time and place it represented. Every moment of those days existed in his memory with great clarity. 

He couldn't say he was sorry that Voyager had returned with the antidote, but he was forced to admit, at least to himself, that he hadn't been particularly pleased by the timing. 

Then again, those first days back on board the ship had been painful enough. Had things happened differently, the situation might have been very similar to current circumstances. What was he going to do to resolve this situation? 

In a way, he wished for some crisis to call them both to the bridge. They desperately needed a distraction. This time, he wasn't even sure how to extend the olive branch. Pretending the incident had never occurred seemed impossible. 

What they both needed was a red alert; some danger to the ship that was bigger than this. Where were the Borg when you needed them?

  


"There's nothing here," Kathryn Janeway muttered to herself. She slumped back in defeat and tried to remind herself that she had found exactly what she had expected to find. 

Everything she had read served to prove that a relationship was a luxury that a starship captain simply could not afford. 

She also couldn't afford to sit in her ready room and wallow in misery. It was time to pull herself together and get back to work. After she had a sonic shower and a cup of coffee.

  


The briefing room of the Enterprise was not meant for pacing. Will Riker was making a good effort nonetheless. He had vivid memories of the last time Deanna had been in the hands of the Romulans. While she had handled herself admirably, it was still an experience he wished to avoid repeating. "I don't want you beaming over there. I don't trust the Romulans - " 

Deanna cut him off. "Will, I hardly think the Romulans would go through this much trouble to kidnap me. Besides, Voyager needs me." 

"I don't trust Voyager any more than I trust the Romulans." That might have been an exaggeration, but the entire situation smelled of trouble. 

"They're Starfleet officers. We have to trust them." 

Riker was adamant. "No, they aren't and we don't." 

"Will, this isn't like you. What happened between the two of you?" Deanna was puzzled. It wasn't at all like the first officer to let his personal feelings interfere with their duties. She was picking up on an unusual level of apprehension. 

"Nothing," Will answered. "We only met once. We had coffee. She dumped me. End of story." 

She pressed. "But?" 

"Look, it's not the fact that she was inexplicably rude the only time I ever met her. That I could forgive. I'd forgotten all about it until I heard of her ship being lost." He threw up his hands. "But the rest? She's got an Admiral in her pocket, a crew full of Maquis rebels, and longtime friends in the Romulan government. She's made deals with the Borg and who knows who else! You've got to be crazy to trust any of them! If they had chosen allies other than the Romulans I wouldn't be worried." 

Deanna was unconvinced. "I'm going, Will. It's a counseling session aboard a science vessel. I'll be fine." 

"That's just the point. None of this makes any sense. Why are the Romulans so willing to let Starfleet personnel onto a science vessel? Why aren't we surrounded by birds of prey? They've had more time to prepare then we have - " 

"I'm going, Will. Now."

  


B'Elanna tried to make eye contact with the captain. "Do you trust me?" 

"I thought that I did." 

The words stung. "Look, I need you to come to the astrometrics lab. If I can't convince you, then I'll have you beamed down there. Your choice." 

Janeway glared at Torres. "You wouldn't dare." 

B'Elanna tapped her comm badge. "Torres to Campbell, I need a site to site for the captain." 

"Belay that order, Ensign." 

"Sorry, Captain," the transporter officer replied.

  


The room shimmered. Janeway found herself alone in the astrometrics lab. Damn Torres. She was out of line. Damn Campbell. So was she. Damn Paris. It was all his fault. Damn herself, for letting this get so out of hand. She'd lost the respect of her crew. This, she thought furiously, was precisely why it would never work. Damn her lack of objectivity. Damn this whole quadrant. 

She heard the Doctor's voice. "Captain, your crew has gone to a good deal of trouble to establish a comm link. Allow me to introduce Counselor Troi of the Enterprise." 

Janeway tried to erase the shock from her face as the dark haired Betazoid woman appeared on the viewscreen. She tried to recall whether they had met before, but failed. 

"Please, call me Deanna." The counselor smiled pleasantly. 

Good, thought Janeway, we must not have met before. She scrambled to gather her thoughts. Was Starfleet aware of her recent transgressions? No, her crew wouldn't betray her like that. This must be some attempt on the crew's part to make reparations, she realized. 

Frantically, she tried to recall the range of betazoid telepathy. She realized that she had no idea, and that it didn't matter, since she didn't know where the Enterprise was or how they were communicating. How the hell had B'Elanna established this link? 

"Kathryn? I'm sorry to surprise you, but we don't know how long we'll be able to keep this comm line open. First of all, let me tell you, off the record, that I have it on good authority that the Maquis among your crew will all be pardoned when you get home. Other Maquis have already received pardons in exchange for service to Starfleet. Don't let concern for that situation interfere with any decisions you need to make." 

That, anyhow, was good news. Wonderful, in fact. For years now, Janeway's greatest fear had been the thought of turning Chakotay and B'Elanna over to the authorities. But what did Troi mean by decisions? Did Starfleet know something? Troi certainly did. She had to find out. "Pardon me, but exactly - ?" 

"We received a message from B'Elanna Torres. She indicated that you might benefit from speaking with a Starfleet counselor." 

"Oh. Well, then, she probably mentioned that I haven't exactly been a shining example of mental health this last week. Fortunately, we're in a very quiet region of space." Janeway tried to decide whether or not to talk. It certainly wouldn't gain her any points if she didn't. She conceded. "Maybe it would help to talk about it. Where do I start?" 

"Ordinarily I'd say take your time. But under the circumstances...." 

It suddenly occurred to Janeway that Deanna Troi had the authority to relieve her of duty. That would certainly solve her problem. Then, as a passenger, she could spend the rest of the journey in Chakotay's bed. She pushed the thought from her head and decided she might as well admit the problem. Maybe the counselor would have a solution. "Cut to the chase? Fine. I'm in love with my first officer. I have been for almost six years and I can't seem to find a way to get over it." 

"And do you think he feels the same?" 

"I know that he does." Why the hell had she said that? She cringed, feeling as if she'd betrayed him. 

"Then why do you have to get over it?" 

"What do you mean, why? He's my first officer. I can't act on those feelings." 

"Why can't you act on those feelings?" 

Janeway failed to keep the annoyance from her voice. "Starfleet policy. It would be a breach of protocol. You know that as well as I do." 

"Protocol, Kathryn? Are you sure that's the problem?" 

"Yes." 

Troi's silence spoke volumes. Janeway realized she was expected to spell it out. "Starfleet protocol exists for a reason. An affair between a captain and a crew member could disrupt the whole ship. In my case, neither of us could even transfer to another vessel, and I'm not sure whether the fact that he's my first officer makes it better or worse. 

"If it didn't work out...well, out here, we only have each other. I need my first officer, and I can't afford to disrupt our working relationship, and that is precisely why Starfleet has the rules that it does. I understand all of that, and yet I'm still having trouble staying objective." 

"Why wouldn't it work out?" Troi asked. 

Janeway shrugged. "I don't know, specifically, but this isn't a fairy tale. I need to be realistic." 

"Realistic or fatalistic?" Troi could tell that Janeway's feelings were sincere. And from what Torres had indicated, so were the first officer's. But she needed to be sure. "Tell me about your relationship as it is now." 

"Chakotay is the best first officer I've ever had. We work well together, and there are times when it seems he can read my mind. He's supportive, but he's never been shy about telling me when he hasn't agreed with my decisions and he's stopped me from making more than one mistake. We've argued, but we've always come out of it stronger. I can't imagine commanding this ship without him." 

Troi nodded. "What about your personal relationship?" 

"I'll admit that we've probably spent far too much time together. We ate most of our meals together, we attended shipboard social functions together. I leaned on him for support. None of that was his fault." 

"Past tense?" 

"Recently, things went too far." Janeway blushed in shame. "I kissed him on the holodeck, and I realized that I couldn't afford such a close friendship. I..." Her voice faltered for a moment. "I told him we couldn't be friends. Not anymore. That from now on we'd keep it strictly professional. He agreed, but now I'm having trouble. I've been avoiding him; avoiding everyone. I'm certainly not the type of person who needs a relationship to feel complete. I really don't understand why I'm having so much difficulty putting my feelings aside. I need to get a handle on this or I can't run this ship." 

"And why can't your friendship continue?" 

"Spending time together just reminds us both of what we can't have. That isn't fair, and I love him too much to put him through that any longer. He deserves to be happy. I can't have a relationship in this quadrant, but there isn't any reason that he can't have one. So the friendship has to end, so that he can move on with his life." 

Troi was silent. 

"He agrees with me," Janeway said. 

"Agrees with you, or supports your decision?" 

Janeway saw the truth in that question immediately, and cringed. "I keep hurting him, and he always forgives me and supports me. He deserves so much better." 

"Tell me again why you can't be more to each other?" 

"Protocol," Janeway said reasonably. "And all of the reasons for that protocol." 

"Like the fact that it might not work out? You still haven't explained that." 

"Sometimes these things don't." 

"And sometimes they do. Is there something specific that worries you?" 

Again, she shrugged. "I love him, and yet I keep hurting him. As patient and forgiving as he is, how can I possibly expect that he doesn't have a breaking point? I know I'm not the easiest person to get along with." 

"And how is it that you keep hurting him?" 

"By pushing him away." 

"If you were to change the nature of your relationship, that wouldn't be a problem any longer. Is there another issue which concerns you?" 

"I haven't always been brave about relationships. But this is different. I love him. I know he loves me." She struggled to keep her voice clear of emotion. "I trust him completely. I'm not attracted to him merely because I can't have him, nor is this about my fear of being hurt. This is about maintaining an efficient working relationship for the sake of this ship and this crew." 

"I think that holding back is probably disrupting your working relationship far more at this point. As you've pointed out, this tension isn't fair to him nor is it fair to you." 

Janeway was silent as she thought that over. Was Troi offering her a way to move forward? "Yes, I guess you're right. Right now, I think my struggle for restraint has the whole crew on edge." 

"Is anything else holding you back?" 

"Yes. Another one of the things that inspired the protocol. I can't let my personal feelings interfere with my command decisions. If Chakotay is the best officer to send into a dangerous situation, I can't let my feelings for him stand in the way." 

"Has that been a problem for you?" 

"I hate sending any member of my crew into a dangerous situation. But no, I don't play favorites." 

"You've loved him for all of these years and that fact hasn't affected your command before. Why do you think anything would change?" 

"I guess if I'm honest with myself I'm more afraid of overcompensating." She shuddered. "If I made a mistake that cost Chakotay his life..." 

"Kathryn, I can't deny that possibility. But you run that risk whether or not you pursue a relationship." 

"I know that." 

"So?" 

"So?" 

"Ordinarily it wouldn't be appropriate for me to tell you what to do, but in this case I'm making an exception. Go to him. Be happy. Starfleet captains don't take a vow of celibacy, for heaven's sake. Talk over your concerns, but don't wait any longer. No one expects such a sacrifice from either of you, not under the circumstances; that protocol just doesn't apply to your situation. It can't." 

Kathryn's voice held a note of cautious hope. "Deanna, are you sure?" 

"Are you asking my permission?" 

"I guess I am." 

"That doesn't sound like you." 

"No. No, I guess it doesn't. But I am." She shrugged helplessly. She needed assurance. Perhaps, she thought wryly, she just needed a quote to repeat at her court martial. 

"Admiral Paris sent the Federation flagship five light years into Romulan space just so I could talk to you. He told me to make sure you weren't sacrificing your personal happiness unnecessarily. I think that qualifies as Starfleet approval." 

Janeway tightened her jaw to keep her mouth from hanging open. "The Enterprise is in Romulan space? Just what is it that I've missed recently?" 

"Starfleet Command received a communication from Lieutenant Torres relayed by the Romulan government. I don't know how it was accomplished, and I dare say there are a few people in Starfleet who are a little curious. I'm speaking to you through an artificial anomaly of Romulan design, from a Romulan science vessel. You've made some interesting friends, it seems." 

I'm sure Starfleet is more than a little curious about that, Janeway thought. So was she. Telek R'Mor was dead; just who had B'Elanna contacted? And how? 

There was a voice in the background. Deanna turned to acknowledge it. "The anomaly is destabilizing. Live your life, Kathryn. Don't put it on hold any longer." 

Kathryn Janeway brushed a tear from her cheek, and broke into a grin. "I won't. Thank you. And thank your crew, the Romulans, and Admiral Paris for me."

  


Chakotay heard the door chime. He wanted to ignore it, as he had so many times over the last few days, but he couldn't hide forever. B'Elanna would eventually use force. Besides, they had a starship to run. He braced himself. "Come." 

Kathryn! No, Captain Janeway, he told himself furiously as he struggled to hide his reaction to her appearance. He couldn't meet her eyes, not until he could trust himself to remain detached. 

She watched him fight to keep his face neutral. How could she tell him? How could she possibly explain what had happened, and how could she possibly put into words all that she felt at this moment? Could she even speak? "Chakotay..." 

She had used his name. Not his rank. His name. He wasn't prepared for the sheer volume of emotion that single fact produced. It was a sound that he had prepared himself to never hear again: The magnificent sound of Kathryn, saying his name as only she could. He looked at her. 

Those were tears in his eyes. The careful mask had been shattered already, and she had said nothing more than his name. And she saw a glimmer of hope in his face. 

"Kathryn?" 

She moved towards him, and he grabbed her, clasping her to his chest. She hugged him back fiercely. "I've missed you," she choked. 

Becoming lovers would have to wait another minute, because right now she was just so grateful to have her best friend back that she couldn't even speak. 

He wanted to freeze time; to stay forever in this moment. As long as they stood like this, holding each other, nothing else mattered to him. He was afraid to let go. Afraid that he was wrong; that she wasn't really here to tell him that everything was all right again. Oh Kathryn, he begged silently, please don't make me live without your friendship. 

Was he trembling? She pulled back and looked at him. She saw the fear in his eyes and was reminded that she still hadn't said anything. He didn't know. She smiled at him, then reached up and stroked his face. Her fingers traced his tattoo. She tried again to speak. "Chakotay..." 

His heart leapt in his chest. His pulse quickened at her touch. Her hands slipped behind his neck. Time was suddenly moving very slowly. This wasn't real. This was a dream. Her lips were mere inches from his. And he wanted so much to close the gap and kiss those exquisite lips, but not at the expense of her friendship. 

He gently pushed her away. "We can't." 

"We can." She studied his face, reading the uncertainty in his expression. "But you're right. We need to talk." 

He nodded, and let her lead him over to the couch. As she made herself comfortable, he struggled to hold back tears. He saw she was watching him, and chuckled. 

She looked perplexed. "What?" 

"I thought I'd never see you sit on that couch again," he said softly. "I'm glad to see I was wrong." 

"Oh, Chakotay," she whispered, again regretting the pain she had caused him. "I'm so sorry." 

"I need you in my life, Kathryn." His expression was almost pleading. "There are many things I am willing to live without. Your friendship isn't one of them." 

She hurried to reassure him, stumbling over the words as she struggled to find the right ones. "It won't...I can't either..." Her voice failed her. She shrugged and reached for his hands. "Tom Paris called me a coward..." 

He interrupted. "That's okay. I broke his nose." 

"What?" 

"After what happened, well, I thought I'd lost you. I lost my temper. I don't suppose it was the most logical way to handle the situation. I was angry at myself, not Tom. I - " 

Regret for the way she'd treated him washed over her. "How can you ever forgive me? I've hurt you so many times - " 

"Kathryn, none of this is your fault - " 

"Chakotay, how can you - " She stopped, shaking her head ruefully. "It doesn't matter. It's over. We don't have to wait any longer." 

He clutched her hands tightly as they stared into each other's eyes. Hope and fear battled within him as he forced the question up his dry throat. "What do you mean?" 

"We had a visitor, of a sort. I don't know how, but B'Elanna arranged a meeting with Deanna Troi." 

"Say that again?" 

"The Enterprise, Romulans, an artificial anomaly, Admiral Paris...I don't know. I didn't bother to find out." 

Now it was his turn to be shocked. "Kathryn Janeway not curious?" 

"Oh, I'm curious. But there are priorities." 

"Such as?" 

"This," she answered, leaning in to kiss him softly. Her lips caressed his, nibbling his lower lip. Her tongue sought entrance to his mouth, drawing a groan from deep in his throat. Their tongues touched, dancing briefly, and he released her hands, reaching to push his fingers into her hair as he kissed her with six years worth of reined in passion and suppressed emotion. They pulled back to look at each other. 

He gazed at her. His thumbs tenderly stroked her face and tears sparkled in his dark eyes. "Can I say it now?" 

She opened her mouth to speak, but the comm system didn't allow her the chance. 

"Captain to the bridge." 

"Excuse me?" 

Harry said one word. "Borg." 

Neither hesitated for a moment, pushing their frustration aside with long practiced skill. "We're on our way."

  


There had been a nervous sort of rejoicing when the captain had gone straight from astrometrics to Chakotay's quarters. The celebration had been short lived, however. 

Now they were at red alert, and the captain's personal life was no longer anyone's priority. Harry Kim sat gripping the arms of the command chair, anxiously awaiting the captain's appearance. 

"I have a visual, sir," Ensign Jenkins announced. 

"Onscreen," he ordered. "Magnify." 

And there it was, a heavily armed Borg cube, moving with a deliberate lack of haste. And why should it hurry? The thing had emerged from a transwarp conduit not far from Voyager's position, and it was painfully clear that the starship had no place to run. 

It was obviously there for them, and no doubt intended to assimilate both ship and crew at its leisure. Harry just prayed it wasn't waiting for reinforcements. 

Seven of Nine was at the secondary tactical station. "I'd suggest we leave this area immediately, Ensign." 

"I'd second that," Tom muttered from the conn. "But where the heck are we supposed to go?" 

The turbolift doors opened, and Harry stood to vacate the captain's seat. 

Janeway paused to stare at the viewscreen while Tuvok and Chakotay took their stations. "Damn. I really had hoped you were kidding, Harry." She sighed, then smiled reassuringly at the ensign and laid a hand on his shoulder. "Well, we've beaten the Borg before, and we'll do it again. I just can't say much for their timing." 

"They appear to be fully operational." Chakotay tapped at his console "Have they made contact?" 

"Negative. They seem to be taking their time." 

The captain took her seat. "Why are they here?" 

"I suspect that they detected the transwarp conduit we opened four days ago," Seven responded, surprising the captain, who had not expected an answer. "I strongly suggest that we vacate this area of space." 

"And go where, exactly?" Tom asked. "There's nothing out here." 

"There's still the chance that they'll ignore us if they don't perceive us as a threat," Chakotay said. 

"Resume course for the Alpha Quadrant." Janeway decided to test the theory. "Maximum warp." 

"Belay that," Harry interrupted, causing the captain to turn in her seat. He quickly answered the question in her expression. "We're waiting for a hail from the Romulans." 

"So?" Tom asked. "I think they'll forgive our lack of manners, considering." 

"So I'm guessing that the Borg weren't really all that interested in our transwarp conduit." 

Seven nodded, understanding. "The Romulan technology." 

"I meant to ask about that," the captain said. "Care to fill me in?" 

"We don't really know much about it," Harry said. "All we've got is the original sensor readings. We needed them too much to risk losing their help if they objected to any deeper scans." 

"But this new technology just might interest the Borg," Janeway said. "So we're now in the position of protecting the Romulans from assimilation. Suggestions?" 

"I believe that our goal should be to lure that cube away from these coordinates," Tuvok answered. "It is logical to assume that the Borg are unaware of the anomaly's point of origin. If we prevent them from studying it, they will not gain that information. That would remove the Romulans from immediate danger." 

"This situation may prove ideal for testing the weapon Lieutenant Torres and I have been designing," Seven added. "If it detonates near the central plexus the cube will be temporarily disconnected from the Collective." 

The captain turned to Seven. "How long would that give us?" 

"The cube would be disabled for approximately five hours. Once they were able to reestablish contact with the Collective, reinforcements would no doubt be sent." 

Janeway nodded. "When is this hail expected?" 

"Not for a couple of hours," Harry said. "I'm guessing they'll wait until the Enterprise is well out of sensor range." 

"Then we do have some time." She exchanged a look with her first officer. "Bearing three thirty mark ten, Mister Paris. Warp factor four. Let's see if they follow us." 

"Aye, Captain." Tom set a course and the ship jumped to warp. The bridge crew waited tensely for the cube's response. 

Chakotay broke the silence. "They aren't following." 

"It would appear they are not," Tuvok agreed. 

"That's what I thought," Janeway said. "Come about, Mister Paris. We'd better make ourselves more of a threat. But first, we need to make sure the Romulans understand the danger presented by using their new technology in this sector." 

"What do you have in mind?" Chakotay dreaded the answer with all his heart. 

"I'm staying here." Her voice was firm. "Bridge to Engineering, prep the Delta Flyer for launch." 

"I'm sorry, Captain," B'Elanna responded over the comm line. "The Delta Flyer has a ruptured hull." 

The captain paused to absorb that information. "Okay, prep the Saca - " 

Tom interrupted. "We blew up the Sacajawea." 

"Do we have any functional shuttlecraft?" the captain asked patiently. 

"The Cochrane is currently intact." 

"Good. Prep it for launch." Janeway turned to Chakotay, well aware of his thoughts. "Commander - " 

Predictably, he interrupted. "Captain, I don't think it's wise for you to go alone." 

There it was, the expected objection. "This ship is about to engage a Borg cube. You can't spare anyone to watch me twiddle my thumbs." 

Tom turned from the helm to ask the question that Chakotay couldn't safely voice. "And if another cube shows up?" 

Janeway gave him the answer she had been prepared to give her first officer. "If the Borg send reinforcements, anyone on that shuttle doesn't stand a chance; increased numbers won't change that fact and I'm not willing to risk additional lives unnecessarily." 

"Then let me go," both Chakotay and Tom said at once. 

"This is my fault," Tom argued. 

"Tom, I need you at the helm," Janeway countered. "And Chakotay - " 

"Your ship is about to engage a Borg cube. It can't spare its captain." His voice was steady, betraying none of the fear in his heart. Since when did she take orders from him? "I'll go warn the Romulans. You stay on the bridge, where you're needed." 

"Good luck," she told him, conceding defeat. He had used her own argument against her, and now she couldn't even send anyone else with him. "Warn them and then get out of there. We'll rendezvous as soon as we've dealt with that cube." 

Janeway firmly pushed her concern to the back of her mind and turned to her bridge crew. "So, anyone mind telling me exactly how we managed to open a transwarp conduit four days ago?"

  


The brief planning session came to a close. Janeway watched Chakotay follow Seven into the turbolift, then slouched back in her command chair, determination etched upon her face. 

Voyager dropped out of warp. 

Janeway leaned forward to study the cube on the viewscreen. "Let's see if we can't get their attention. Target their shield generator. Photon torpedoes, full spread." 

"Aye, Captain," Tuvok replied. 

"Their shields are holding," Harry announced. "We're being scanned." 

The captain nodded. "Good. Evasive maneuvers. Prepare to jump to warp on my mark." 

The familiar and chilling voice of the Collective was heard. "We are the Borg. You will be assimilated. Your biological and technological distinctiveness will be added to our own. Resistance is futile." 

"That's what you always say," Janeway drawled. "Now, Mister Paris." The game of cat and mouse had begun. 

"They are pursuing," Tuvok said. 

"Evasive maneuvers." 

The ship rocked under the impact as the cube fired. 

"Shields?" 

"Eighty one percent, Captain," Tuvok answered. "No damage." 

"Target their shield generator and return fire." Janeway brushed her hair from her face. "Bridge to engineering. Are you ready?" 

"I need two more minutes, Captain." 

"You've got one, Lieutenant." 

Voyager rocked again under Borg fire. The bridge crew grabbed at their consoles to keep their footing. 

"Shields?" 

"Sixty three percent. Minor damage reported on decks six, seven, and eight." 

"Keep firing," Janeway ordered. 

Again Voyager rocked as fire was exchanged. 

"Shields at forty two percent," Tuvok said. 

Another barrage of Borg fire. 

"Twenty percent," Tuvok announced. "Damage on decks eight, nine, and ten." 

"Their shields are down," Harry reported. 

"B'Elanna?" 

"Ready, Captain." 

"Drop shields," she ordered. "Let's do it." 

"Transport complete," Seven of Nine reported from engineering. "Detonation in thirty seconds." 

"They've locked on to us with a tractor beam," Tom announced. 

"Reverse thrusters." 

"We can create a feedback pulse - " Harry began to suggest. The captain didn't wait for him to finish. 

"Do it, Mister Kim. Shields up. Full power to the structural integrity field. All hands brace for impact." 

"We're free," Tom called just as the ship bucked violently, tossing half the crew to the deck. 

"Warp drive is off line," Tuvok stated. "Hull breach on deck twelve, section forty two. No casualties." 

"Seal it off. Bridge to engineering." 

"Three hours, Captain," B'Elanna answered, not waiting for the obvious question. "We lost a warp field coil in the starboard nacelle." 

"And the cube?" 

"We achieved our objective," Seven answered as she walked out of the turbolift. "Their central plexus is off line." 

"Set a course back to the Cochrane. Full impulse." She sat back in her command chair and prayed that Chakotay didn't need any assistance before warp drive was restored.

  


The first officer sat alone in the pilot's chair of the Cochrane and waited. With nothing to do but wait for the Romulans, Chakotay found his mind wandering. Kathryn would be fine, he told himself firmly. She had faced the Borg before; many times, in fact. No captain in the Federation, Jean-Luc Picard included, had scored more victories against the Borg. 

It hadn't just been his overprotective instincts that had made him take her place on the shuttle. The ship really did stand a better chance against the Borg with Kathryn on the bridge. Besides, if the Queen was in contact with that cube, then she would notice the captain's absence and send a vessel to locate her. But he certainly wouldn't be noticed one way or another. He wasn't concerned that the Borg would come looking for him. 

What did worry him was how close he had come to confessing his love for Kathryn before Harry had called. She knew it, he'd even said it that day in her ready room, but was she really prepared to hear it in such a context? Perhaps the interruption had been for the best, although he could have named at least a dozen emergencies he would have preferred to the Borg. 

He certainly couldn't deny that he wanted a relationship with Kathryn, and he believed that they could successfully keep such a relationship from interfering with the command structure aboard Voyager, but he feared moving too quickly. 

His mind replayed earlier events yet again. There had been such tenderness and passion in her kiss, but she had kissed him with passion before, only to run from him. Deanna Troi seemed to have influenced Kathryn's opinion regarding duty and protocol, but Chakotay knew better than to believe that she had erased all doubts. 

He didn't want this relationship to be a source of stress; Kathryn had enough on her plate. What he wanted was the freedom to offer her support, comfort, and love. Nothing tore at his soul more than the obligation to walk away when he saw pain and grief in her beautiful blue eyes. Even if they did move forward, that would still happen, but at least he would be able to hold her once they went off duty. 

Hours passed before the expected anomaly opened. Chakotay opened a channel to the Talvath, quickly and politely warning them off. 

"Is the situation aboard your ship resolved?" the young Romulan woman asked. 

"Yes, thank you." Chakotay wondered whether that was really the truth. "You have our gratitude." 

He set a course away from the coordinates of the anomaly. If Voyager had failed to disable the cube, it would no doubt return to study the phenomenon. There was also the possibility that the cube had managed to transmit a message, summoning more Borg vessels to this sector. Neither was a pleasant prospect. Today would be an inconvenient day to die.

  


Janeway disappeared into her ready room to fret. Without warp drive, they were more than a week away from the Cochrane, and she didn't like it one bit. B'Elanna had said three hours and there was no reason to think otherwise, but she couldn't quite turn off the warning bells in her head. 

This feeling of unease always took hold when there were crew members off on an away mission. She was happier when they were all on the ship, where she could pretend that she had some control over their safety. 

But this time it wasn't ordinary jitters caused by a standard away mission. She hadn't sent a team off in the Delta Flyer to scan some asteroid belt for dilithium. No, she had sent her first officer off to face the Borg, alone, and in a class nine shuttlecraft. 

Only minutes after she had decided that yes, she could afford something of a personal life after all, circumstances had arisen to prove that theory spectacularly wrong. It was her inability to manage her personal life that had led to the appearance of the Borg cube and the necessity of Chakotay's mission. If he died, or worse, was assimilated, it was because she had failed as his captain. 

And yet... 

Guiltily, her mind returned to the way he had kissed her, with such love and passion, one hour and a lifetime ago. She remembered how happiness had replaced the fear in his eyes. The thought of bringing him further pain was unbearable. They had to move forward, regardless of the risks. She was willing to deny herself happiness, but she just couldn't continue to do the same to him. 

And yet... 

Why couldn't she make personal decisions with the same decisiveness with which she made command decisions? Where was the confident captain when it came to affairs of the heart? Romance may never have been her strong suit, but had she not told Troi that this time it was different? 

She couldn't deny that there would be obstacles, but she had made her decision before she had left astrometrics, and she didn't want to change her mind now. She only hoped that the Cochrane wouldn't face any threats before repairs aboard Voyager were completed.

  


B'Elanna was hurrying to finish repairs with an intensity that had almost nothing to do with the possibility of another confrontation with the Borg. 

While she didn't know how Chakotay and the captain had left things, she did know that the interruption had been ill timed. Everyone on board would breathe easier once the command team had reached a resolution. She couldn't stand for Chakotay to have his heart ripped out yet again. 

And there was still the possibility of another confrontation with the Borg. Without warp capabilities, they were vulnerable. In any case, B'Elanna had no intention of needing the full three hours to complete repairs.

  


When Chakotay picked up Voyager on sensors he was actually surprised. He paused a moment to think about that; had he really expected disaster? His optimism was usually stronger. Perhaps it was the fact that part of him just couldn't believe what had happened in his quarters before Harry's page. 

Six years was a long time. Could the wait possibly be over, or was he wrong to hope? What exactly had she been prepared to offer him and had that changed in the past few hours? And more importantly, was everyone safe? 

Heart in his throat, the first officer hailed his ship. The sooner he docked his shuttle, the sooner his questions would be answered.

  


"Captain, Commander Chakotay is hailing."

  


Janeway pushed aside her wildly conflicting emotions, schooled her features into a professional expression, and moved swiftly back to the bridge. "Onscreen." 

And there he was, safe and sound, asking permission to come aboard. It required a fair amount of willpower, but she didn't hurry down to the shuttlebay to greet him. 

Instead, she called a meeting of the senior staff. Had she done that following her discussion with Troi, rather than rushing to her first officer's quarters, she might have been better prepared for the Borg attack. She would not be caught off guard again. 

There would be time enough for personal relationships once she knew exactly what had happened on board her ship over the last couple of weeks. What, for example, had become of the Sacajawea? 

Janeway and Chakotay sat patiently and listened as their crew described the events they had missed, beginning with Tom's desire to establish communications with Starfleet. They nodded acquiescence at the decision to contact the Romulans. They studied the schematics for the device that had created the highly unstable transwarp conduit. The captain paled at the description of B'Elanna's accident aboard the Flyer. 

Tom correctly read the guilt in his captain's eyes. "It was something we would have tried at some point. Everyone on board had letters to send home..." 

Janeway glared at him, then allowed a slight smile to creep onto her face. "Understood, Mister Paris." 

"Personally, I'm not sorry the accident happened," B'Elanna added. "The conduit stayed open for longer than we anticipated. It might mean we could use the technology to transport a larger object." 

"If we can obtain a larger supply of gallicite," Seven clarified. 

This peaked the captain's interest. "Perhaps we could steal some from that cube." 

"No!" Harry interrupted. He struggled not to blush under the captain's scrutiny. "Listen, no one on board wants to go home as much as I do, but maybe we should let this go for now." 

Tom nodded his agreement. "Harry's right. We were lucky to escape that cube once. Reinforcements could show up at any time. Let's just count our blessings." 

"That would be logical, Captain," Tuvok added. 

"Remember last time we tried stealing from the Borg?" Tom asked. "I don't think we should rush into anything." 

"There are preparations that it would be wise to make," Seven agreed. 

"I, for one, vote for extensive planning," the Doctor added, his voice not entirely free of sarcasm. 

"I'll need time to modify the design on that pulse generator we used earlier," B'Elanna said. "They might have figured it out by now." 

"And we should run some holodeck simulations," Tom said. "Then we'll be prepared to raid the next cube we meet." 

"There's always a next cube," Harry agreed. 

Seven was nodding as well. "It would be prudent to wait for another opportunity." 

"Waiting would be the logical choice," Tuvok added unnecessarily. 

The captain and first officer exchanged a look; since when was the entire staff this cautious? 

"And might I also suggest that there is other business that requires attention before the next suicide mission?" The Doctor looked pointedly at the first officer. 

Janeway stiffened at his implication. It was bad enough that her entire crew had meddled in her personal life, but she did not like the suggestion that she should postpone a mission to deal with personal business. 

Then again, any attempt to steal from the Borg required careful planning. She'd be foolish to rush such a mission just to prove that she wasn't postponing it. "When we meet this 'next cube' I want to be ready. I want those preparations made. Dismissed." 

The crew hurried to leave the captain and first officer alone in the briefing room. 

Janeway turned to Chakotay and cringed at the uncertainty in his dark eyes. A wave of guilt washed over her as she realized the power she had to hurt this man, simply because he was unfortunate enough to love her. Chakotay, who was always brave and decisive in the face of danger, showed fear openly at the prospect of having his heart trampled once again, and for a moment she wondered if he was correct to worry. 

Then she pushed her own anxiety aside. She loved him, and she would not cause him pain. Everything else would, well, she would just have to work it out. But she wasn't going to hurt him again. 

Chakotay stood and watched the effects of an inner battle flash across Kathryn's face. The briefing room was not the right setting for this discussion, and he moved to lighten the mood. "You told me once that you thought B'Elanna deliberately went out of her way to find solutions that ignored Starfleet procedures. This one definitely takes the cake." 

She stared at him in amazement. "And they say men don't remember things." 

"What?" 

"I said that six years ago." She was smiling now. "You really are amazing. What do you say we go take care of that unfinished business?" 

He was somewhat reassured by her suggestion, and they left the briefing room, ignoring the bridge crew completely as they crossed to the turbolift. By some unspoken mutual decision they returned to his quarters. 

Chakotay smiled warmly at Kathryn as they kicked off their boots and crossed to the couch. "I hope we're not caught in a temporal loop." Despite the lightness of his tone, he made no attempt to hide his feelings when their eyes met. "We've been here before." 

What she saw in his eyes erased any remaining thoughts of changing her mind. They had to move forward, but how could they do so and still maintain balance? 

Chakotay recognized her anxiety. He felt a fair amount of apprehension himself. He took a deep breath. There was no benefit in delay. "So, where do we go from here?" 

"I don't know," she replied softly. "I just don't. But I do know that I love you, and I don't want to push you away any more. I don't know how to go forward, but I think we have to try." 

Had he heard her correctly? His throat constricted, removing his ability to speak. Had his imagination run wild, or had those magical words actually passed her lips? They couldn't have, because she was staring at him with a look of determination that she usually saved for life threatening missions. 

Her tone was suddenly all business. "We need to promise each other, promise ourselves, that no matter what else happens, we will remain friends. I couldn't stand to lose our friendship if things didn't work out. And there's the ship; we'd still have to work together - " 

"I will never be your ex-lover, Kathryn." He spoke softly but firmly. His eyes glittered with unshed tears. "Never." 

She shrugged, a casual gesture meant to hide her trembling, and answered in a voice fit for discussing the routine cleaning of plasma injectors. "Things happen, Chakotay." 

"No. I won't accept that. This is forever." 

She tried to remain separate from the emotion his words provoked. "Isn't that what everyone always thinks?" 

"Kathryn, we're not everyone," he whispered. He took her hands in his. 

"I know that," she said. "If it weren't for the ship, and for the fact that you are the closest friend I have..." Her words trailed off. She met his eyes and tried again. "I trust you, please don't think I don't, but there are reasons for the protocols and my little voice is screaming about consequences and duty." 

"I understand." His thumbs traced lazy circles on the backs of her hands. "It's like the time Seven tried downloading the ship's logs into her cortical implant. When she came to me and told me her Starfleet conspiracy theory, I thought she was being absurd. I couldn't imagine you lying to me, to all of us. But then I felt like I had to investigate, just in case my feelings for you were clouding my judgment." 

She nodded, remembering the incident. "I felt the same way. I told Seven that there was no one on board I trusted more than you, but I still felt obligated to consider her theory. If she had accused Tuvok, or Tom, or B'Elanna, would I have forced myself to think about it? Probably not; as much as I trust them, I trust you more. And that's why I felt I had to rule out the possibility. I had to prove to myself that I was following my head, not my heart." 

"Our friendship survived that, and it has survived many other obstacles over the years," he said. "I promise you that our friendship will survive anything the future brings." 

"It's not you I'm worried about. I'm always the one to withdraw, to push you away. And I can't promise you that I won't be distant at times. My command has to come first, and there are times that as the captain I can't let my feelings, or yours, take priority." 

"I understand your obligations. Maybe we should wait to be more but I can't live without your friendship and I don't want to live a lie of omission any longer. I love you and I'm not going to try to hide it." He chuckled softly. "It seems I failed pretty thoroughly at that anyhow. I won't pressure you, Kathryn, but I've tried to stop loving you and it isn't possible. I'm willing to wait as long as you need me to wait. I'll be right here when you're ready, and I'll be your friend and your first officer in the meantime. 

"But if you do want more, and you will let me love you now, then I can accept the obstacles. It won't always be easy, but nothing worth having comes without a price." 

"I don't want to wait any longer." Tears threatened to spill down her cheeks as she finally allowed herself the freedom to express what was in her heart. "I love you." 

Chakotay cupped her face in his hands and lost himself in the beautiful blue depths of her eyes. "And I love you, Kathryn. So very much that I can't begin to express it." His voice caught as he witnessed the unguarded love in her expression. Waiting another moment to kiss her was beyond his capabilities. 

Her head swam as she drowned in the deep, leisurely kiss that seemed to go on forever. There was no guilt, no perceived obligation to attempt cerebral activity, nothing but this tender, heated joining of mouths and hearts. 

Neither knew how much time had passed before they stopped to gaze at one another once again. There were tears on both of their faces. 

"That," she let go of him briefly to gesture vaguely at the door, "is going to find its way in here. We can't promise it won't. But what we have to promise is that this," she seemed to indicate the couch, "absolutely cannot be carried out there." 

"That's not going to be easy." 

She smiled softly. 

"What?" 

"I'm relieved that you said that. If you had said 'no problem' I'd be worried." She kissed him again, taking great satisfaction in the fact that she could. "We'll work it out." 

"Yes, we will," he whispered. Once again, words became unnecessary as their lips met. 

They were both buzzing with a light headed euphoria at the joy of finally being free to touch and hold one another. She delighted in the sensation of his shoulder muscles rippling at her touch while the fingers of her other hand wandered up to slide through his hair. 

Eventually his lips left hers to begin an exploration of her throat. Her soft gasp sent a jolt of desire through him, and he raised his head to gaze at her once again. 

Her eyes drifted open and a mischievous grin spread across her face. There was both laughter and seduction in her low pitched voice. "Well don't stop now!" 

"I can't believe this is real." He pressed his lips to her cheek and turned his face into the softness of her hair. "I must be dreaming." 

"Could you dream this?" She pulled his body firmly against hers and kissed him fiercely. 

"I love you," he gasped out in response the moment he was capable of drawing breath again. He still found it overwhelming that he could speak the words aloud; that she was here in his arms; that she was letting her feelings for him show on her face and in her eyes. 

She pulled back slightly and studied his expression as her hand moved deliberately to the front of her uniform jacket. Slowly, she drew it open, marveling at the heat in his eyes and her own reaction to it. 

The jacket fell to the floor, instantly forgotten, and she next went to work on the buttons of his casual shirt, barely taking the time to wonder what had become of his uniform. His hands captured hers and he was suddenly very serious. "Once we make love, there's no going back." 

"I don't want to go back," she assured him, eyes smoky with desire. 

"I'm holding you to that." He used a tone that made it clear that he meant it. "Be sure. Because I'm holding you to that." 

"Last chance to back out?" she questioned teasingly. 

He didn't return her smile. "I'm serious, Kathryn. If we take this step, then it has to be forever. I won't let you go; I won't be able to let you go. If you aren't sure, we'll wait. I'd wait a lifetime for you. But once we've made love, I will not go quietly back to admiring you from afar." 

His warning should have scared her, she thought, yet the result was quite the opposite. This was Chakotay, this was right, and this was forever. She answered not with words, but instead slipped her hands into his shirt, splaying her fingers across his bare chest and leaning forward to press a kiss to his collarbone. 

A smile split his face even as he gasped at her actions. He let her push the shirt off his shoulders. "In that case..." 

Kathryn sucked her breath in sharply as Chakotay slid his lips down her throat and pushed her backwards, covering her body with his own and supporting his weight on his elbows. His hands caressed her sides through her tee shirt, sending delicious tremors up and down her spine, and she wished she had taken the time to remove it before she had unbuttoned his shirt. 

His mouth returned to hers. He reveled in her taste as he kissed her deeply. 

She broke their kiss to make a suggestion. "Let's take this into the bedroom." 

It was not an idea he was inclined to argue against. He stood, took her hands in his, and pulled her to her feet. The sight of her swollen lips and mussed hair made his heart pound. He lifted her hands and pressed kisses into each of her palms. 

Her eyes drifted shut. "I love you," she gasped, shivering as he moved his lips along the inside of her wrist. Together, they began to move slowly in the direction of the bedroom. 

Chakotay momentarily let go of her hands, and Kathryn took the opportunity to dispose of her shirt. As she did so, the large object in the corner caught her eye. 

"What is that doing here?" she asked softly. She took a step towards it. Memories flooded her mind, and for the first time she could savor them without being overwhelmed by guilt and painful regret. 

"Tom beamed it here." He swallowed hard at the sudden absence of her top. "I'm still not sure why." 

"I think I'll ask him." Her eyes roamed over Chakotay's bare chest. "Tomorrow," she added with emphasis. She moved to kiss him again. 

Much later, they lay in each other's arms. 

"You are a woman of many talents, my love," he whispered, stroking the hair away from her face. "That was amazing. You are amazing." 

"You inspire me." She roused herself enough to kiss the hot flesh beneath her cheek. "I've never felt so...so..." she searched for an adequate word, but gave up quickly. "I can't put it into words, what you do to me." 

He chuckled softly. "You don't need to. I understand, Kathryn, and I love you too." 

Would she ever get used to those words? She shifted and stretched to kiss him once again. She certainly would never tire of his amazing lips. It was wonderful that they were no longer forbidden to her. 

"I've imagined this night so often," he told her. "I'm so glad that it happened the right way." 

"It sure did," she replied with a husky laugh. 

He smiled, playing with her hair as he explained. "I was afraid that someday it would just happen, up against the wall of the turbolift - " 

"Sounds like fun," she interrupted. "We'll have to try it sometime." 

"Kathryn!" He pretended to look scandalized. 

She continued, her voice low and seductive. "Then the Jefferies tubes, and the hydroponics bay, maybe deflector control...definitely the ready room." 

"Kathryn!" 

She suddenly looked far away, and her voice grew soft. "I always imagined it would happen on the Delta Flyer. We'd be back in Federation space, and the debriefings would be over. You and I would find an excuse to just go off somewhere together, and we'd make love right there in the pilot's seat." 

"I had a dream about the Delta Flyer," he said. "We were on an away mission and you climbed into my lap and ordered me to kiss you." 

She laughed, then came to a sudden realization. "It was you, wasn't it?" 

"It was me what?" 

"The Doctor said a member of the crew came to him with a complaint about experiencing erotic dreams. Was that you?" 

"He told you?" Chakotay was shocked. Hadn't he specifically demanded the Doctor's silence? 

"Well, he didn't say it was you." Pieces began to fall into place in her mind. "You told me that someday you'd tell me about your vision quest, the night we fell asleep on the floor. Can you tell me now?" 

"I believe I can. I had a dream about you and I, alone on the bridge. The Doctor had already given me his less than helpful opinion about how I should deal with these dreams, so I decided to go on a vision quest." 

She was laughing softly. "And here I was worried that you were having nightmares." 

"Oh, terrible nightmares. The things you wanted me to do!" 

She swatted him playfully, chuckling. "So what was his less than helpful advice? He wasn't all that sympathetic when I asked for a dream suppressant. He told me to wait it out." 

"You asked him to prescribe a dream suppressant?" he asked, suddenly concerned as he realized what exactly that might mean. 

"Yes..." she answered cautiously, noticing his tone. 

"Well, that certainly explains the advice he gave me." 

"Which was?" 

Lying to her was impossible. Despite his reservations, he told her. "He informed me that physical attraction is not a disease, and that if we were having erotic dreams about one another then we would be wise to act upon them." 

To his great relief, she laughed. "I hope he's pleased with our solution." 

"You're okay with that?" 

She shrugged. "They all know, Chakotay, all of them. I have no choice." 

"What are you going to do about that?" 

"Do about what?" 

"Our meddling crew. What do we do with them?" 

"We could throw them all in the brig," she suggested, doing her best to sound serious. "But then you and I would be far too busy running the ship to ever do this again." 

"Well that's certainly not an option," he decided, chuckling. "Anything else come to mind?" 

"I can't let them off without any consequences, so I think what I'll do is suspend all shore leave privileges." 

"Kathryn!" Surprised she would even consider such a harsh action, under the circumstances, he propped himself up to catch her eye. It took him only a brief moment to understand her true meaning. "For how long?" 

"Oh, just as long as it takes for us to actually find a planet where we could take shore leave. Unfortunately, with this void, that might be awhile." 

"We'll make do. I'm quite content to stay right here for a month or two." 

"I agree," she said. "But if we fall asleep like this then I suspect that we're just asking for that darn red alert klaxon to find a reason to go off." 

"I have some suggestions for putting that bathtub to use." He flashed her his dimples. 

She grinned. "Why do you think I kept it all of these years?" 

"I'd hoped you were being sentimental." He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. 

"Were you surprised to find out that I kept it?" 

"I knew you had," he said softly. "I was surprised that Tom knew about it, but I wasn't surprised that it was in the cargo bay." 

"How did you know?" 

"I went back to the surface to transplant your tomatoes, and I made sure you hadn't left it behind. I didn't like the thought of some future anthropologist spending his lifetime pondering the origins of your bathtub." 

She smiled at the image. "So, what do you say we give it a whirl?" 

"The tub? Now?" 

"I don't know about you, but I'm thinking that a good soak in the tub might be the only way to avoid waking up rather stiff and sore tomorrow morning." 

"You might be right, but are you sure we have to move from this spot?"

  


Alpha shift long since over, Tom, B'Elanna, and Harry were huddled together over a table at Sandrine's. 

"They've been in Chakotay's quarters for hours," Tom observed suggestively. "Wouldn't you like to be a fly on the wall?" 

"Tom!" Harry hissed, even as B'Elanna's elbow hit its target. 

"Ow," the helmsman complained. "Don't try to tell me you both aren't curious." 

B'Elanna rolled her eyes. "About the outcome? Yes. But I don't need details." 

"No fun at all," Tom muttered. 

"Watch it, Flyboy," B'Elanna warned. "Push me and you'll be sleeping alone tonight." 

"That's okay," he answered. "I can always turn to Marla McGyvers for company." 

B'Elanna rolled her eyes. 

Harry looked puzzled. "Who is Marla McGyvers?" 

"Someone who cared about how the twentieth century viewed the future," Tom explained. "She, unlike the two of you, would know all about the Mos Eisley cantina and the Golgafrincham B Ark." 

"She wrote some historical textbook," the engineer clarified. "Tom keeps leaving it in my quarters." 

Harry was about to comment further when Lyssa Campbell appeared. "So exactly what was the Golgafrincham B Ark?" 

B'Elanna groaned as Tom began his enthusiastic explanation, complete with descriptions of moodily lit tubes of toothpaste.

  


Out on Sandrine's tiny dance floor, the Doctor and Seven of Nine were moving slowly to the soft music. She was trailing her lips slowly up and down his neck, enjoying the way his holographic skin quivered in response. 

"Doctor?" 

"Yes, Seven?" 

"Do you think it would be inappropriate if I were to attempt to persuade Mister Paris and the others to retire for the evening?" 

A smile spread across his face. "I like that idea, but we should give it a few more minutes." 

She followed his gaze to the table in the corner, and nodded her understanding.

  


The corner table was occupied by Billy Telfer and Tal Celes, who were nervously watching each other over the rims of their coffee cups. 

"Billy..." she began tentatively. 

"Yes?" he asked, a bit too quickly, he feared. He put down his coffee and wiped his sweaty palms on his pants. 

She hunted desperately within herself for whatever bits of courage she could muster. "I promised Neelix I would tell you, so I'm not going to back out, and I don't expect you to say anything, and if you don't feel the same we can still be friends, because you are my best friend, and..." 

Her tumbling avalanche of words was cut short, because Billy had rounded up his own courage and leaned across the table to kiss her.

  


Captain and first officer lay facing each other in the big, roomy bathtub, stretched out comfortably, feet up, steaming cups of herbal tea balanced on the edge. 

"This certainly beats a cold sonic shower," he told her. "I sure won't miss those." 

"Don't expect this every night. If I use all my replicator rations on hot water and bath beads I'll have to give up coffee." 

"Perish the thought." He shuddered in mock horror. 

"Then again..." 

Chakotay chose that moment to slide a hand up her calf, and for a moment speech wasn't possible. When he released her leg, she regained a sense of equilibrium and continued. "Then again, perhaps I can finally cut back on the coffee." 

He nodded, knowing where she was headed, but didn't interrupt. 

"I won't miss those long, lonely nights in my quarters, fighting battle after battle with insomnia. Now if I'm awake in the middle of the night, it will be worth it." 

"You think the nightmares are over?" he asked gently. 

"Maybe not completely. I'm certainly not lacking in the things to worry about department. But I slept much better with you beside me, and now I won't even have to fight the temptation to kiss you good morning." 

That made him grin. "I could be wrong, but I suspect your recent nightmares had to do with your guilt over caring for me, and for the crew. The quiet space and the social activities probably served as a catalyst." 

"I think you're right. When did you put that together?" 

"After your dream about Admiral Paris, but I didn't know how to help you deal with it. Now we're free to talk about it." 

"Now we're free to do lots of things." She slid across the tub and arranged herself in his lap. "And most of them are far more interesting than Admiral Paris." 

"Is that so?" He wrapped his arms around her with enthusiasm. 

She smothered his teasing question with a passionate kiss. "I can't seem to get enough of you," she told him, running her fingers up and down his chest. "Why is that?" 

"I must be pretty wonderful." He grinned. "I have to be doing something right to deserve you." 

"You are pretty darn wonderful," she declared. "You are handsome, strong, brave, gentle, caring, wise, loyal, and incredibly sexy. I love you, and I don't know how I ever thought I could live without you beside me." 

"I'll always be beside you, Kathryn," he vowed. "I love you, so very much. I love your strength, and your courage. I love your wisdom, and honor, and dedication. I love your beautiful smile, and your incredible blue eyes. I love your glorious hair. I love your sexy voice. I love the way you drink coffee, and I love the way you make love with such passion." 

"You do that to me," she said softly. "It was certainly never like that before." 

"I find that hard to believe." 

"Really," she insisted quietly. "You are incredible. Just incredible. With Mark, well, let's just say there wasn't any danger that we'd wake up the children, if there'd been any. With you, I might have to look into increasing the soundproofing on this deck or they'll hear us in the mess hall." 

He chuckled and his lips meandered down her neck. "That might not be a bad idea. I'd hate to hear what Neelix would say if we caused one of his leola root souffles to fall." 

Snickering at the thought, she shifted to rest her back against his chest. His heavenly lips continued to taste every inch of her shoulder. 

Her eyes drifted shut in enjoyment and she sighed softly. How did he make her skin tingle like that? She realized that he had retrieved the soap. 

"Chakotay," she gasped, chuckling even as she shivered. 

"What's so funny?" 

"We have to be on the bridge tomorrow morning." 

"That's not funny," he said. The hand holding the soap slid down over her stomach. 

She gasped again. 

"We'll be late," he whispered in her ear, his hot breath sending shivers up and down her spine. "We'll be very late tomorrow, and I don't think anyone will dare complain."

[Alternate Chapter 5 (aka the sex scene)](http://spiletta.com/void5.html)

**Author's Note:**

> This transformative work constitutes a fair use of any copyrighted material as provided for in section 107 of the US Copyright Law. _Star Trek™©, Star Trek: The Next Generation™©, Star Trek: Voyager™©_ and related properties are Registered Trademarks of Paramount Pictures. No copyright infringement intended. No profits made here. © Spiletta42, March 2002.


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